


Crazy

by BSparrow



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, No Walkers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BSparrow/pseuds/BSparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her life was hard enough before her crazy ex came back to town. And when he does the unthinkable, there is only one person for her to turn to. Caryl AU inspired by ideas from blackqueenphoenix and karouyamisaki on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Hey, honey, I need another beer!"

The music was so loud she could barely hear herself think. "Pour Some Sugar On Me" was playing for the fifth time and she was ready to rip her hair out by the roots.

"Sweetheart! Can I get another drink?"

She was used to the men calling out orders even as she passed them with a full tray. She was used to them grabbing her wrist and asking her to sit down and have a drink with them.

"Carol."

She wasn't used to them knowing her by name.

The voice was quiet but it seemed to cut through the thumping music like a fin through a wave. And it was familiar. So familiar.

But it couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

She turned, balancing the heavy tray on her hip, and there he was, just a foot away.

The sight of him nearly knocked the breath right out of her.

It had been so long since she'd seen him, two and a half years, but he hadn't changed a bit. The same thick, dark hair. The same bright blue eyes. That same smug grin.

"Ed…" she whispered breathlessly, squeezing the tray until the metal edges bit into her palm.

She suddenly felt light-headed and the heady air in the club, thick with smoke and perfume, wasn't helping.

"I heard you were working here but I didn't believe it," he told her with a smirk, reaching for her hand. "Sit down and talk to me for a minute."

"Sorry, I-I can't," she told him, scrambling to back away, stepping just out of his reach. "I've got to get back to-"

He cut her off with a steely glare, his voice hard as he spoke.

"I wasn't asking."

She swallowed hard, feeling that old flare of alarm in the pit of her stomach at his low, serious tone and his gleaming eyes.

He expected her to do as he said, to jump to attention whenever he spoke. He always had.

But, she told herself, he didn't have that kind of control over her anymore. He'd lost it when he took off without a word. Without even a note or a letter or a phone call.

Now…now, he was just another customer.

She held her head high and walked slowly back to the bar, trying to regain control over her racing heart. And she managed to stay just out of his reach for the next hour as she went about her business, toting glasses and dodging stumbling men, tottering women, and lit cigarettes.

So it scared the hell out of her when, as she was busy at the bar, she felt a heavy hand land hard on her shoulder, clammy fingers digging into her flesh.

She let out of a yelp of surprise, automatically trying to escape the grasping, clenching fingers. But instead of releasing her, they spun her around, causing her to drop her tray. It hit the floor with a clatter that was lost to the music, empty glasses shattering on the floor.

But he didn't care. He didn't even seem to notice.

He grabbed her other arm, squeezing her bicep hard and pinning her in place with her back against the bar so she couldn't get away.

"Why you been avoiding me tonight, Carol?" he asked softly, eyes boring into hers. "Ain't you missed me?"

"What do you want, Ed?" she managed to ask, her voice trembling. "Why are you here?"

Customers were milling all around them, bumping into them, laughing and whistling at the dancers on stage. But the room might as well have been empty.

An eerie smile curled across his lips, "I just wanted to let you know I was back in town."

His words sent a bolt of fear straight through her, raising chill bumps on her arms, but she raised her chin defiantly.

"Why should I care?" she asked, forcing herself to look him in the eye.

What she saw there turned her stomach.

"Oh, I think you care," he said quietly, releasing one of her arms so he could grab a fistful of her red, curly hair. "I like your hair long like this. Looks good on you, Red."

And to her horror, he leaned forward and buried his face in the handful of hair gripped between his fingers, yanking her head along with it. She could hear him inhaling deeply, felt hot tears springing to her eyes.

She tried to squirm away but his grip on her bicep was firm to the point of being bruising. There was no escaping it without gnawing off her own arm like a wild animal caught in a trap.

"Hey!"

Her knees went weak with relief at the sound of a familiar voice.

It belonged to the bouncer on the floor, a man named Daryl Dixon.

She looked up to see Daryl shoving his way through the crowd, gaze zeroed in on Ed's back. She'd never been so happy to see him, her knight in shining leather and denim.

"Hands off, motherfucker!" he snarled, jerking Ed backwards by the collar of his shirt.

Ed spun around, automatically swinging, but Daryl was quicker. She knew he was used to dealing with drunken assholes every night.

He ducked Ed's blow and caught him in the jaw with one of his own, sending him stumbling backwards into the bar before socking him in the gut. Ed doubled over, coughing and gasping for breath.

The strobe lights were flashing overhead, blue and pink and white, and the whole scene was jerky and strange and nauseating.

"You alright?"

She was too stunned to hear him. Too stunned to move. Her whole body felt like it was made of lead.

"Hey, you alright?" Daryl asked again, his voice rough.

He had to practically shout just to be heard over the music. It was just enough to break through her dumbfounded haze. She met his eyes as he grabbed Ed by the collar and managed to nod, swallowing the fearful lump that had lodged itself in her throat.

She stepped back as Daryl shoved Ed towards the door, cursing him furiously under his breath. Ed didn't even put up a fight as Daryl unceremoniously kicked him out onto his ass.

And it was that easy. He was gone and she was okay and it was over.

For the moment.

She knew it wasn't that simple with a man like Ed. If he was back in town like he'd said, her life was about to get very complicated.

She suddenly felt exhausted at the very thought of it.

Across the crowded floor, through the writhing bodies, she saw Daryl standing on his toes and searching her out over the crowd.

Their eyes met and she saw some of the tension fade from the sharp lines of his face. The music seemed to fade away for a moment and she parted her lips, mouthing the words "thank you".

He held her eyes for a moment and she wondered if he had something to say, if he was going to make his way through the crowd to come talk to her.

But after a moment, he just gave her a brisk nod and turned away, lost in a sea of strange faces.

He was an odd one, that Daryl.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of her shift passed quietly aside from the usual rowdy drunks. It was nothing she couldn't handle, nothing like Ed.

The place seemed to clear out quick at closing time. It seemed no one wanted to stick around a strip club after-hours. The main room was empty by the time she headed down the hall to fetch her coat and her purse.

Just as her weary fingers closed around the leather strap, she heard her name drifting through the flimsy curtain that separated the hallway from the dancer's dressing area.

"Did you see Little D flipping out on that guy that grabbed Carol?"

"Carol the waitress?"

"Yeah, that's her. Poor guy, he just can't hide it."

Carol frowned, leaning back against the wall as she considered what they could possibly be talking about. Daring to peek through the gap in the curtain, she saw it was two of the dancers she knew – Jessica and Katie. They sat in front of the brightly lit vanity, carefully removing their makeup and false eyelashes.

"Does she know?" Jessica asked Katie, squinting into the mirror as she removed one of the sticky strips of lashes.

Katie shook her head, blonde ponytail bobbing, "I don't think she has a clue. Hey, do you have another hair clip?"

It was a strange conversation to be sure but her heart just wasn't in figuring it out. She was always tired at the end of a long shift but Ed's little outburst had left her completely drained.

The lights were out when she emerged from the hall. Darkness made familiar shapes seem alien and she stumbled over a chair as she headed for the door.

Daryl Dixon was nowhere to be seen. He usually saw her out to her car every morning after she got off, just like he did for the dancers, but she wasn't in any mood to wait around for him. She wanted nothing more than to get home, step under a scalding hot shower, and then climb into bed.

But still she found herself hesitating in the doorway, struck by a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach as she stared out across the empty parking lot. It was silly; she could see her Cherokee from where she stood. The streetlight she'd parked under was flickering, alternately bathing her car in a sickly yellow glow and then plunging it into darkness.

It was as quiet as it always was this time of morning. No cars were passing on the street. Everyone was at home in bed or at least passed out on the nearest flat surface. As she wavered there, she could hear the faint buzzing overhead from the vulgar neon sign that advertised Blue Diamonds Gentlemen's Club with a bouncy cartoon pin-up.

She suddenly missed Daryl's stony, silent presence at her side. He wasn't much for conversation but he was a good man to have around. She always felt safe with him there. But then, she supposed that was probably the purpose of an establishment like Blue Diamonds having bouncers.

He was quite attractive as well, she allowed, in a rugged sort of way. Most of the other girls seemed to agree. She got the feeling he'd _spent time_ with one or two of them but it didn't seem to be anything romantic. He probably wasn't the romantic type.

She shook Mr. Non-Romantic out of her head and pulled her coat tighter around herself, heading for the car. The wind picked up, rolling an empty beer can and sending it skittering across the asphalt. She shivered just a little and picked her pace; almost there.

Relief filled her as her fingertips brushed the cold metal of her door handle and then she was grabbed from behind, crushed against a broad, thick chest.

Her first instinct was to scream and so she did, at the top of her lungs. But a large, heavy hand clamped over her mouth, cutting her off as she struggled against the arm around her waist.

She fought wildly, lashing out against her captor, but she quickly realized he was unmoved. In fact, he was laughing at her, a low chuckle right up close against her ear.

"Wasn't very nice, what you did earlier. Getting me kicked out by your little friend? That ain't the Carol I know," his breath was hot against her neck and she shuddered. "I think I deserve an apology."

A sudden chill raced down her spine and she thought for a moment she might pass out from sheer fear. But she fought it back, fought it down. She wasn't weak anymore. She was strong.

Ed spun her around to face him, shoving her back against the car. Her skull bounced off the window and she whimpered, tasting blood as she bit into her tongue. He leaned in close, his bulging eyes grotesque in the flickering yellow light.

"You're going to be a good girl and tell me you're sorry, right?"

It made her sick but she nodded.

"And then you're going to give me a little kiss, aren't you?"

She'd rather bite off her own tongue and choke to death on it.

"Aren't you?" he repeated sharply, pressing her tight against the car with the full weight of his body.

Her answer was to bring her knee up into his groin as hard and as fast as she could. He grunted and automatically released her to grab himself, bent double from the pain.

Seeing her chance, she slid out from between him and the Cherokee and stumbled over her own feet in her haste.

She heard the sharp zing of something ripping through the air but she didn't see the arrow until it was protruding from Ed's backside.

He let out an unearthly howl, hitting his knees with one hand wrapped around the strange new addition to his rear.

Startled, she followed the arrow's path across the parking lot to find Daryl Dixon standing next to his rusty old pickup, lowering a mean-looking cross bow.

* * *

"I – I can't believe you shot him…with a cross bow."

"It's all I had. That bastard's lucky I didn't have my Browning in the truck."

She was still in shock, staring out the window of Daryl's truck at all the sleepy houses as they passed by. She had ran to him and hopped in without even thinking about it, leaving Ed on the ground screaming after her.

"What if he calls the police?" she asked suddenly, glancing over at him.

"Nah," he said dismissively, checking his rearview and flicking on his blinker. "Probably ain't the type. Guys like him would rather handle shit themselves."

That certainly sounded like Ed.

"Oh God," she sighed, feeling a sinking in her chest.

"Hey, don't worry about it," he glanced in her direction, raising a brow. "I ain't worried. I've handled worse."

She looked at him in surprise. She hadn't even considered Daryl's part in all of this. No, she knew Ed. She knew him well and she knew that he wouldn't be concerned with the likes of Daryl. He would blame the whole thing on her, arrow to the ass included. And he'd want to make her pay. But still she appreciated Daryl's willingness to jump to her rescue. He really was her knight in denim and leather.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as she reached out to touch his arm, her voice quiet, "Thank you."

His eyes darted her way before looking back to the road as he said stiffly, "No problem. Just doing my job."

She pointed out the turn ahead and he obeyed.

"So why'd you go out by yourself anyway?" Daryl asked, eyes still on the road. "Why didn't you wait on me?"

"I didn't see you around."

"I was just walking Denise out to her car. I was coming back to get you when I heard all the commotion."

She sighed, dropping her head into her hands and rubbing her puffy, swollen eyes, "I just can't believe this is happening. I can't believe he's back."

He glanced over at her, rubbing the scruff on his chin, "Wait, you know that guy?"

She nodded and lifted her head to look out the window again, careful to avoid his eyes.

"He's the father of my child."

If he was surprised, he didn't let it show.

He just dipped his head, considering her words with a thoughtful expression, "Didn't know you had a kid."

"Yeah, she just turned two," Carol smiled in spite of herself as she thought of her little girl.

He bit his lip, "She got a name?"

"Sophia."

He nodded to himself, turning down her street and slowing as she pointed out her house. He rolled to a stop at the curb, rolling down the windows to let in the cool night air before he cut the engine.

She knew she should get out and head inside but it felt good to just sit there and enjoy the cool breeze on her warm cheeks. She knew her mother and Sophia would be sleeping and suddenly she wasn't so eager to be alone.

Daryl shifted next to her and she looked over at him. He'd been looking at her but looked away quickly, focusing on his hands on the steering wheel.

"So why do they call you Little D?" she asked after a moment.

He shot her a look, narrowing his eyes.

"I've been wondering that since I started at the club," she explained.

He snorted, looking out into the dark, and for a moment she didn't think he was going to answer her.

"Little Dixon. My big brother worked there before me and they called him Big D."

"Big D, huh?" she found herself smiling again in spite of the night she'd had. "I bet he liked that."

"Yeah, he loved it," Daryl met her eyes, the slightest hint of a grin tugging at his own lips.

"Well, as…intriguing as Little D sounds, I think I'll stick to Daryl."

He shrugged but pressed his lips together tight like he was fighting to keep his little grin from spreading into a smile.

"So I guess your brother moved on to another job? I don't think I've ever met him."

Daryl shook his head, "Nah, he moved on to the big house."

"Prison? Oh."

"He's out now," he said quickly, gaze darting over her face. "He's just busy. With other things."

She nodded like she understood and they both fell silent again. She glanced back at the glowing porch light and sighed.

"Well, I better be getting inside. I want to peek in on Sophia before I get a shower."

He nodded. She felt his eyes on her back as she pushed open the door and slid out of the cab of the truck, her legs aching as her feet hit the unforgiving asphalt.

"You got a ride to work tomorrow?" he asked suddenly, before she could shut the door behind her.

"Oh," she said, looking over her shoulder at the empty driveway. "No, I guess I don't."

She hadn't even thought about the fact that she'd left the Cherokee behind with Ed writhing in pain next to it. She and her mother shared it. Another car would have been convenient but it wasn't in their budget and probably never would be.

"I can swing by and pick you up," he told her, sounding unsure of himself, "If you want."

She had the sudden desire to climb up in the truck and hug him but she just smiled.

"I'd really appreciate that," she told him, leaning against the open door. "Are you sure though? It won't be out of your way?"

"It's fine, don't worry about it."

"Okay. Well, I'll see you then," she nodded, closing the door behind her.

She stepped up onto the sidewalk as he cranked up the truck. When he glanced in her direction, she raised her hand to wave goodbye and he nodded that brisk little nod of his.

"Thanks again! For everything!" she called out, running her hands up and down her arms to chase away the goose bumps prickling at her skin.

He lifted his chin in acknowledgement and she turned away, heading inside.

Yes, Daryl Dixon was definitely an odd one. But he was a sweet one too.


	3. Chapter 3

"Shoes."

"Yes, shoes. Where did Mommy put her shoes?"

Carol was tearing apart her bedroom looking for the shoes she always wore to work. She glanced up at Sophia, suspicious of her gap-toothed smile.

"Did you hide Mommy's shoes?" she asked, tickling the bottom of her daughter's pudgy little foot.

Sophia just giggled, obviously not planning to be of any help.

Right on cue, the doorbell rang. Sighing, she scooped Sophia up off her bed and padded to the front door, hastily attempting to tame her hair with one hand along the way.

She peeked through the peephole and saw it was Daryl, right on time. She'd expected him to just sit out at the curb and honk his horn but here he was, standing on her doorstep under the yellow porch light and clumsily running his hand over his hair in his own vain attempt to smooth down a cowlick.

She smiled and opened the door, "Hey!"

"Hey," he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"This is Sophia," she told him, proudly hoisting the little girl up on her hip. "What do you say to Daryl, Sophia?"

"Shoes," Sophia told him gravely, kicking out her chubby leg to wiggle her bare toes at him.

He looked up at Carol, obviously puzzled, and she had to laugh, "That seems to be her word of the day."

"Oh," he nodded somberly. "Yeah, shoes."

Sophia made grabby hands at him but Carol figured Daryl probably wasn't prepared to juggle a toddler.

"Let me just give her to my mom," she told him, glancing down at her own bare toes, "and find my shoes and I'll be ready to go. You can come on in and wait on the couch if you want."

"Shoes," Sophia told him once more, looking at him over Carol's shoulder to point at her toes again.

Carol glanced back to find Daryl peering at her little girl as though he'd never seen one before, "I guess you didn't have any little sisters, huh?"

"Nope. It was just me and Merle."

"I guess you two were probably more than enough."

He snorted at that and she motioned to the worn out couch in front of their flickering television set.

"Have a seat," she told him. "I'll hurry."

He made himself as comfortable as he could between Sophia's dolls and she went looking for both her shoes and her mother. The shoes were found, after another lengthy search, to be wedged under her bed and her mother was found to be in the kitchen, heating up some Spaghetti-O's for Sophia's supper.

"I'll just put Soph in her highchair," she told her mother, "Daryl's here so I need to get going."

Her mother looked over at her, raising a brow, "Don't I get to meet the young man first?"

"Mom, it's not a date," Carol sighed, pressing a kiss on Sophia's forehead as she settled her into the chair. "He's just giving me a ride to work."

"Everything has to start somewhere," Carol's mother retorted with a smile and Carol rolled her eyes, hoping Daryl hadn't overheard their conversation.

"Oh and Carol?"

Carol stopped in the doorway, feeling not unlike a moody teenager.

"You might want to take a look in the mirror before you go out there."

"Again, Mom, it's not a date," Carol sighed. "I know it's been a long time since a guy came by to pick me up for anything but it's still just a ride to work."

"Fine," her mother replied, turning back to the stove as Carol turned to leave again. "But either way, you have a dust bunny in your hair."

* * *

She could feel Daryl's eyes on her.

Carol was singing along with his old Lynyrd Skynyrd tape, watching through the window as the sun sank slowly behind the trees and houses along the road. Every now and then, she could feel him glance her way and then quickly avert his eyes when she looked over at him.

"What?" she finally asked when the curiosity got to be too much. "Do I have something in my hair?"

"What?"

"Do I have something in my hair?" she repeated, flipping down the visor to peer into the tiny, grubby mirror. "I had a dust bunny hiding in there earlier."

"Oh. Uh, no," he answered, "No, you're good."

She ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing up her curls a little, and felt his eyes on her again as she pushed the visor back into place.

"Your little girl is real cute," he said stiffly, like he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say.

She smiled at him but he was firmly focused on the road, "Thanks. She is pretty cute, isn't she?"

"She looks like her mama."

Her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline, "Well aren't you smooth, Mr. Dixon?"

His ears went a little red and she decided it was adorable. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen a man blush before, especially a man like Daryl Dixon.

As they neared the club, she saw him squinting at something up ahead. Turning to look through the windshield, she saw the manager and a few of the girls standing out in the parking lot around her Cherokee.

"What the hell?" Daryl murmured, turning into the lot and pulling into a spot just a few spaces over from hers.

The girls stepped out of the way when they noticed she'd arrived and only then did she see what they'd all been staring at.

Her Cherokee had four flat tires. Four _slashed_ tires to be exact.

She heard Daryl curse under his breath as he came around the truck to stand next to her.

Katie met her eyes and looked pointedly between the tires and Daryl, "Damn, it looks like you and Little D must have pissed somebody off big time!"

Carol just stared at the sagging rubber, too stunned to correct Katie's assumption. She supposed she should feel lucky that it was just her tires; after all, Ed knew where she lived. But she _didn't_ feel very lucky. Buying four new tires was going to put a real hurting on her savings.

She squeezed her eyes shut, imagining the typing classes she'd wanted to take flying right out the window.

She heard Daryl muttering something about the show being over and opened her eyes to find everyone slowly drifting away, heading back inside to get ready for the evening ahead.

When the parking lot was quiet again, she leaned back against the side of Daryl's pickup and rubbed her temples as she tried to calculate exactly how much Ed's little outburst was going to cost her.

Daryl leaned back next to her, arms crossed over his chest and his voice low, "What a fucking bastard."

Carol nodded slowly, "You have no idea."

He shot her a curious look but she just shook her head. This wasn't the time or the place to dredge up her past with Ed even if it was staring her right in the face.

"My brother has a buddy with a garage. I can give him a call when we go inside if you want," he offered, kicking at the loose rocks on the asphalt. "He can probably give you a pretty good deal."

She looked over at him, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Those words seemed to lift a little of the weight off of her shoulders. Sure, the offer was helpful but it was the kindness behind the words that comforted her most of all. Daryl Dixon was turning out to be quite a friend and she couldn't think of anything she needed more at the moment.

"That would be great if you don't mind."

Daryl nodded and pushed himself away from the truck but she caught his wrist before he could leave. He froze, looking down at her hand and then up to her eyes.

"Thank you. For everything," she told him, still trying to reign in the emotions that were tumbling around inside of her like loose change in a washing machine. "You've been so helpful with all of this."

Daryl just nodded that brisk nod of his and turned to head inside without another word. And after one last look at her ruined tires, she followed him.

* * *

"Hey."

Carol nearly jumped out of her skin as someone standing just behind her spoke right into her ear. She balanced out her tray just in time, narrowly avoiding splashing beer all over one of their regulars.

"Sorry about that, sir," she told him, carefully setting his drink down on the table before she turned to face Daryl.

He grimaced and she touched his elbow, smiling to reassure him, "Hey, what's up?"

He followed her back to the bar, keeping close to be heard over the music, "Donnie's on the door tonight. I told him to keep an eye out for that asshole. He said he's got it covered."

Carol stopped short and Daryl nearly stumbled into her as she turned to face him with a smile, "Really? That makes me feel so much better."

"I told him the guy would be easy to spot. He's probably still limping," Daryl snorted, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"That's great," she told him, reaching out to squeeze his arm, "I feel like all I've done is thank you lately but...I don't know what I'd do without you right now."

He ducked his head but she saw that smile spreading out across his lips, "It's nothing. Better get back to work."

She nodded, tucking her tray under her arm as she watched him move through the crowd. One of the dancers caught him before he'd gone three steps, motioning toward the back rooms where the private dances took place.

Daryl nodded and squared his shoulders, cutting a pretty imposing figure as he headed off to take care of the problem. She only realized she was still staring after him when he turned and glanced back at her over his shoulder, quickly looking away when their eyes met.

She looked away too and shook her head, trying to keep her hands busy as she struggled to pin down exactly what she was feeling. Between the lingering threat of Ed's wrath and the constant warmth of Daryl's kindness, she felt as though she'd been on a roller coaster for the last twenty four hours.

But whatever she was feeling right now, it had her smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, you and Little D, huh?"

Carol looked up, surprised, and Katie wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

It was one of their slow nights. Jessica was out working the floor and Katie was at the bar, nursing a Diet Coke and harassing Carol.

"We're just friends," Carol told her, though her eyes sought him out even as she spoke.

She found him leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he kept a close eye on Jessica and the regular the girls called Mr. Hands for his proclivity for pushing his luck during lap dances.

For the past week or so, she'd noticed that Daryl always made a beeline for her at the bar when neither of them were busy. He still didn't have much to say but he kept her company and she found she enjoyed that very much.

Katie snorted, following her gaze, "Oh please. D doesn't have friends."

"What are you talking about?" Carol frowned. "He's nice."

"Nice?" Katie said skeptically, looking back at Daryl who, at Jessica's behest, now had Mr. Hands by the arm and seemed to be causing him some serious pain if the man's expression was any indication. "Whatever you say, honey."

Carol watched him for a few more moments and then looked away.

"He's got a thing for you, you know," Katie said suddenly, twirling her straw around her glass.

"What?"

"Little D," she explained. "He's got a thing for you."

"How do you know?" Carol asked, feeling a little breathless.

"You can see it all over him every time he looks at you!" Katie rolled her eyes. "Like he wants to lick whipped cream off of your –"

Carol cut her off, "Katie!"

"Well, it's true!" she said defensively. "But he's always been the hit it and quit it type, at least since I've known him."

"The what?"

"Oh, come on. You know what I'm talking about!" Katie insisted. "The type that'll do you in his truck with all his clothes on but won't take you to dinner, won't cuddle with you, and won't come back for seconds?"

Carol covered her face with her hands, cheeks flaming, "Oh, I did _not_ need to know that!"

"Well just take my word for it, honey," Katie sighed. "But this time might be different, you know? He seems –"

She abruptly fell silent and Carol looked up to find Daryl standing beside her, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck.

"Hey," she said quickly, hoping he didn't notice the way her voice came out somewhat squeakier than usual.

He greeted her with a nod, his eyes meeting hers, and she realized he hadn't heard their conversation. There was no way he'd be standing here if he had.

"Well, I better scoot," Katie told them, winking ostentatiously at Carol as she slid off her bar stool. "I think I'm needed elsewhere."

Daryl sat down next to Carol, his back to the bar so he could keep an eye on things.

The blue and pink lights blinked lazily overhead as she watched him twist the stool back and forth like a kid. He leaned his back against the bar, propping up his elbows, and she felt a little warm as her gaze traveled across the broad expanse of his chest. The man had shoulders for days and his black t-shirt fit just right, showing off defined muscles under the thin cotton.

He caught her staring and she smiled nervously, quickly meeting his eyes, "So…got anyone else to 'bounce' tonight?"

She could have kicked herself for saying something so stupid but he just snorted, motioning towards one of the few occupied tables with his chin, "Reckon that old geezer might get a little rowdy."

The man in question was at least 80 years old and wore a pair of glasses so thick Carol wondered if he could even see the girl on stage.

"They never get too old, do they?" she laughed, watching him wave a crumpled dollar bill at the dancer who looked to be in her own world as she swayed her hips for the empty room.

Daryl shrugged, swiveling back around to face the bar.

"I'm sure all the guys who come in here think you're the luckiest man alive," Carol said, bumping her shoulder against his.

"It ain't nothing special when you see it every night."

"Really?" she raised her brows. "Wow. Well, never tell your girlfriend that."

He looked over at her, eyes narrowed, and she smiled at him.

"I'll remember that," he told her, his own smile tugging at his lips.

"Carol!" the manager called from behind the bar. "You've got a call!"

She nodded and patted Daryl's arm as she left him, her thoughts consumed with what Katie had told her.

"Keep the personal calls to a minimum, okay?" her manager said, turning back to the register.

"Sorry," she told him meekly. Pressing the receiver tight against her ear, she struggled to hear over the music, "Hello?"

"Carol! Oh God, Carol!"

The anguish in her mother's voice washed over her like a bucket of ice water, the cold trickling down her spine and spreading out through her limbs. Fear gripped her chest in an iron vice and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

"What? What happened, Mom?" she gasped, clutching the edge of the bar for support.

She already knew it was bad. Her mother never called her at work and her mother _never_ sounded this upset; not even when Carol's father died.

"I don't know how it happened, Carol!" her mother sobbed, her words indistinct between deep, shuddering gasps. "I just don't know! I was right here all night and when I checked on her, she wasn't there! She's just gone!"

"Who's gone? Mom? Mom, please tell me Sophia is okay!" she begged, the aching in her chest intensifying until she saw stars.

"She's gone! Carol, she's gone!" her mother told her hysterically.

The next thing she knew, the phone was dangling from its cord and someone was helping her sit down. Time slowed to a crawl and the music faded away. The voices around her were low and distorted like she was hearing them underwater.

She was too shocked to cry, though she thought she should. She was just…too numb.

Feeling as though she was looking at the world through someone else's eyes, she saw Daryl suddenly looming in front of her. Behind him, Katie rushed to pick up the phone, trying to figure out what had happened, and then turned to look at her with a stricken expression.

She hung up the phone clumsily, wobbling over on her towering heels to whisper something in Daryl's ear.

It seemed to Carol that most of her brain had shut down, short-circuiting under the massive strain, and leaving only her most basic mental functions intact. She breathed in, she breathed out, and she stared straight ahead.

Daryl's face filled her eyes as he knelt down to her level, his hands gripping either side of her chair. She saw him grimace, his face a tight mask of sharp lines and rigid angles.

"I need to get her out of here," he told Katie before meeting Carol's eyes again. "I'm taking you home, alright?"

She just stared, feeling like a rag doll as he helped her to her feet and then out to his truck.

* * *

The police were everywhere.

Their cars were parked at the curb, in the middle of the street, and even on the grass in her yard. Carol pressed her forehead against the cold glass, staring out the passenger window of Daryl's truck at all the blue and red flashing lights.

Daryl was talking to one of the police officers on the front steps of her house and she focused on him, on the strange, erratic movements of his hands as he explained something.

She imagined it must be very noisy outside, in the midst of all that commotion, but aside from her breathing it was completely silent inside the truck. Inside her head was a different story.

Sophia.

Sophia. Sophia. Sophia.

She repeated her name over and over, focusing on it and grasping at it until it made no sense; until it didn't seem like a name at all but just a jumble of letters. Sounds.

Sophia was gone.

Carol rolled down the window, sucking in a deep breath of cool, fresh air as the tears threatened to start again. She hadn't started crying until they'd pulled up in front of her house and saw the cops everywhere. Suddenly, it had become too real.

"Carol?"

She opened her eyes to see Daryl walking towards her, an officer on his heels.

"Ms. Williams?" the officer asked as Daryl opened the door, "I'm Officer Reynolds. Is it okay if I ask you a few questions?"

She nodded, turning around to face him with her legs dangling out of the door. She saw the officer take out a pencil and a little notebook and glanced over at Daryl, finding him leaning through the open window and staring at the asphalt.

"Ms. Williams, do you have any idea who might have taken your daughter?" Reynolds asked, drawing her attention back to him.

She stared at him for a moment before answering, "Her father."

Reynolds nodded, "Can you tell me about him?"

She sighed, elbows on her knees and head in her hands, "His name is Ed Peletier. He took off when I was pregnant with Sophia and I didn't see him for two and a half years. He showed up again last week and stopped by the place where I work."

"And where's that?" he asked, pencil dancing across the page.

"Blue Diamonds Gentlemen's Club," she answered automatically, scrubbing at her eyes with the heels of her palms. The flashing lights were like ice picks to the brain; she didn't know why they couldn't just turn them off.

The sounds of pencil on paper stopped and she lifted her eyes to find Officer Reynolds staring at her with an odd look on his face. Then he bent his head and continued writing.

"I'm a cocktail waitress," she explained wearily. "I just bring people their drinks."

"Uh huh," he said absently. "So what sort of interaction did you have with Mr. Peletier that night?"

"He was rude to me. He kept grabbing me and trying to force me to talk to him. And he shoved me and…and tried to kiss me," she swallowed hard, looking over at Daryl as she added, "He ended up getting kicked out."

It seemed unnecessary to rehash what had happened after that.

"Was Mr. Peletier ever violent during your relationship?"

"He was…he was more controlling than violent. He wanted to control where I was, who I talked to, what I wore. I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until he was gone," she said, more for herself than for the officer. "Sometimes he'd slap me around when he thought I wasn't obeying him."

She felt Daryl's eyes on her and looked away, ashamed of how that sounded.

"The night he left," she began and then stopped, trying to get ahold of herself. "The night he left he beat me pretty badly."

"So he was physically abusive on more than one occasion?" Reynolds asked, still scratching away.

"Yes."

He nodded slowly, "Did you ever contact law enforcement or file a restraining order against him?"

Cheeks hot, she shook her head.

"And do you know why Mr. Peletier would want to take his daughter?" Reynolds asked, the set of his jaw making her think he'd already made his mind up.

She felt her hope ebbing away, "To hurt me."

Officer Reynolds snapped his notebook closed and tucked it away in his pocket, "Okay, that's all I need for now, ma'am. We'll probably have a few more questions for you but you can go on inside if you want. Someone will be in shortly to tell you what's going on."

She mumbled a half-hearted thanks and he walked away, joining some of the other officers in the driveway.

Daryl's eyes were still on her, his fingers gripping the door frame, "You should probably get inside. It sounds like your mama is real upset."

Carol acknowledged his words with a nod but made no move to get out of the truck.

"You need some help?" Daryl asked, stepping around the door.

She shook her head, "I just don't want to go in there. I can't. _He_ was in there. All of her clothes, her little toys…he probably didn't even take her favorite doll. She won't sleep without that doll."

She broke off as her throat tightened and tears once again filled her eyes. She buried her face in her hands, feeling like her heart was being wrenched out of her chest.

She heard Daryl clear his throat and when she looked up at him through the tears swimming in her eyes, his face was pained. Behind him, she saw two of the officers burst into laughter and wanted to strangle them.

"They're not even going to look for her are they?" she asked suddenly, clenching her fists. "They're not even going to try to find Ed."

"They're all here, ain't they?" he asked, though his expression was somewhat doubtful as he looked over his shoulder at the officers milling around the yard seemingly without purpose. "They're gonna look for her."

"They won't," she told him, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "They won't because I'm a single mom who works at a strip club and he's her father."

He didn't deny that. He just stood there and, though he looked profoundly uncomfortable, he let her cry.

* * *

Daryl didn't leave until after the last cop car had pulled away and the street was quiet again. Carol was delirious by the time he helped her inside and handed her over to her Aunt Angela who'd driven down from Calhoun.

"Your mother's in bed," Angela told her, wrapping her arm around Carol's waist. "I gave her something to help her sleep, poor thing. She was just hysterical."

The house was eerily still and silent as the grave. Carol heard Daryl's truck starting up outside as Angela led her down the hallway, hurrying her past the room she shared with Sophia and into the guest room.

After Angela put her to bed, Carol stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours. But one look at the clock told her only forty five minutes had passed.

Feeling like a ghost in her own home, she drifted into the living room and ended up staring out the front window. The street was quiet in the glow of the streetlights, still sleeping peacefully despite all that had happened. She wasn't sure how the world could go on turning as if nothing was wrong.

In the morning, she knew clocks would go off, people would get up to drink their coffee, they'd go to work, and her baby would still be gone.


	5. Chapter 5

The phone rang a little after 2 am.

Carol, still up pacing the living room, answered it on the second ring, "Hello?"

She could hear some rustling on the other end of the line and the sound of a semi passing on a highway. Goosebumps prickled at her skin and she pressed the phone tighter to her ear.

"Hello?" she repeated.

Another semi passed in the background before a familiar voice finally spoke.

"Carol?"

She sat down hard, clutching the receiver so tight her fingers went numb, "Ed?"

"Yeah," he answered.

If life was like the movies, Carol knew she'd be surrounded by a team of officers coaching her on what to say while they pinpointed his location with some kind of crazy technology. But instead it was just her, alone on her sofa in the darkness with the phone pressed tight to her ear.

"Oh God, Ed, is she okay?"

"What do you think, Carol?" he asked, his words mocking and a bit slurred. "You think I would hurt my own child?"

She shuddered, feeling as though he was right behind her, speaking into her ear instead of miles and miles away, talking into a payphone. She didn't want to tell him that she did, in fact, think he would hurt his own child. She had no doubt about the kind of man he was.

"I just need to know if she's okay," she told him, heart pounding against her ribs. "I have to know, Ed."

There was some more rustling in the background and then she heard, "Mommy?"

" _Sophia_ ," she squeezed her eyes closed, her head spinning like a top. "Sophia, baby, are you okay?"

There was a pause and she heard Ed's voice in the background before her daughter murmured, "Mmhmm."

There was so much she wanted to say to her daughter, it was all tumbling around in her brain and she couldn't slow her thoughts down enough to focus on any of them.

But before she could say another word, Ed was back on the phone, "Told you, didn't I?"

She took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to regain control of herself, "What's she doing up at this time of the morning, Ed? She should be asleep."

"Ah, she's fine," he answered dismissively. "Been eating ice cream."

"Ice cream?" she asked, her head pounding in time with her heart. "Please, Ed, you know you can't take care of her. You – you don't know how. Just bring her home and I won't ask any questions."

"You're damn right you won't be asking any questions," he hissed, the venom in his voice catching her off guard. "That's the problem with you, Carol. You ain't never learned your goddamned place."

The slurring was more obvious now and she cringed, "Are you drunk? Please tell me you're not drunk."

"I ain't," he mumbled. "Mind your own business, bitch."

"Where are you?" she asked, knowing it was a long-shot.

"What'd I just say? Mind your own fucking business," he snapped.

"Please, Ed. I'm begging you," she told him softly. "Please, just bring her home."

"No," he answered immediately and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I sure like to hear you begging though."

She could picture it on his face, that sick, sadistic grin that had always scared the hell out of her, and suddenly she was angrier than she'd ever been in her life. Pure, blinding rage swept through her, consuming her like a wildfire, and she shivered in the wake of it.

"You bastard," she bit out through clenched teeth. "I'll find you and I'll get her back."

"I'm counting on it," he laughed, a sound that froze the blood in her veins. "See you soon, Carol."

She cursed at him but somewhere out there, he slammed the phone down, leaving the dial tone buzzing in her ear.

* * *

As the day passed, Carol stewed in her anger. It was like being stuck in quicksand – the harder she raged, the farther she was sucked into it. Because for all her fury, she knew her words had been hollow, empty threats. She didn't even know where to begin when it came to finding Sophia.

Aunt Angela seemed to find it painful to even look at her. She spent most of her time with Carol's mother in her bedroom, where she still hadn't emerged from her sedative-induced cocoon of numbness.

Carol didn't want to be numb. She wanted to feel every second of anger and fear. If she let herself go numb, she knew she'd never see her daughter again.

When the doorbell rang that afternoon, Carol couldn't say she was happy to see Daryl standing outside but she wasn't unhappy either.

She opened the door without a word, leaning against it and staring at him blankly. The sky was dark behind him, black clouds rolling in on the horizon.

"Hey," he said softly, looking at her like he expected her to shatter into a million pieces in front of his eyes. "Just wanted to check on you. You doing okay?"

"Not really."

He grimaced, "Stupid question."

She just stared at his feet, watching him scuff the toe of his boot against the edge of the step.

"Heard anything else from the cops?" he asked after a moment.

She shrugged, "They called this morning to tell me they didn't have anything to tell me yet."

Daryl shook his head. She heard the rumble of thunder in the distance and rubbed her eyes.

"Ed called," she told him after a moment. She heard his sharp intake of breath and continued, "Sophia is okay. He let me talk to her for just a second."

"Shit," Daryl cursed under his breath, his brows knitting together. "Why'd he call?"

She shrugged, her eyes straying to the clouds gathering behind him, "He's playing games, messing with my head. I don't know. I think he _wants_ me to come find him."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"I'm going to give him what he wants," she told him firmly.

He nodded once and she saw understanding dawning in his eyes, "Anything I can do?"

"Maybe," she began, scrubbing at her gritty, swollen eyes again. "But I hate to ask any more from you."

"Ask it," he told her flatly, squinting up at her.

"Do you," she hesitated, "or maybe your brother…do either of you know anyone that could help me? I don't even know where to start."

He worried the skin around his thumbnail with his teeth.

"I'll talk to Merle."

* * *

"Merle Dixon…but you can call me Big D."

Carol studied Daryl's brother skeptically as he stood by her front door, leering at her and dripping rainwater onto her clean tiled floor.

Merle Dixon was an intimidating man. He wasn't much bigger than his brother but he looked meaner. He wore his anger on his skin, in the hard lines of his face and the tight set of his mouth.

"I think I'll stick with Merle if that's alright," she told him dryly. "Go on into the living room and I'll get you two some towels. Anything to drink?"

"We're fine," Daryl told her at the same time Merle said, "I'll take a beer."

She paused at the door to the linen closet, "I don't have any beer but I can get you a Coke?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and flopped down on her sofa with little regard for the soaking wet state of his clothing.

She sighed, fetching two towels for the brothers. It seemed they'd brought the storm with them. Lightning had flashed overhead and split the clouds, unleashing a torrential downpour on the two of them as they'd made a run to the front door from Daryl's pickup. Even now, thunder was rattling the windows.

Daryl took the towels from her with a mumbled "thanks" and offered one to Merle, who slapped it away as she sat down across from them.

Seeing that Merle was a man who didn't care to beat around the bush, Carol got right down to business and told him the whole story, unsure of how much his brother had already related to him.

"You got the police looking for the kid, right?" he asked when she'd finished and she nodded.

"They're supposed to be but I don't think they're looking too hard," she sighed. "I get the feeling they're not too concerned since she's with her father instead of some child predator. They don't seem to think much of me anyway."

Merle nodded like he understood that.

"Well, that's a real shame, lady, but I ain't sure what you want me to do about it," he told her slowly, glancing over at his brother before looking at her again. "You want the sumbitch dead or something?"

Her jaw dropped.

"What?" she stared at him in shock but she couldn't deny that she considered it, just for a moment. "No, no, that's not what I'm asking."

He stared back at her, scratching at his stubbly chin. She could hear his blunt fingernails rasping over the bristly hairs.

"So what _are_ you asking?" he finally asked.

"Come on, bro," Daryl shook his head. "She needs help finding the asshole. She gotta spell it out for you?"

"What the fuck I look like to you, little brother? A bloodhound?"

She saw Daryl's jaw clench tight as he told his brother, "Shit, you could find this guy with your eyes closed and you know it."

Merle sat back, curling his hands into fists on his thighs. She held her breath as a look passed between the two of them and Daryl nodded his head ever-so-slightly. She didn't know what exactly made Merle the man for the job but if Daryl believed so strongly that his brother could find her daughter, she was willing to believe it too. She needed _something_ to believe in.

Merle looked back at her, his mouth an angry slash across his face, "So what's in it for us? We ain't doing all this for nothing you know."

"Merle –" Daryl started but Carol cut him off.

"I don't have much but I'll pay you everything I've got if you'll just help me."

She saw him look over at Daryl again, tongue snaking out to wet his lips.

Finally he nodded, pushing himself up off the couch with a grunt, "Fine. Gonna need half up front and the other half when we get back."

She nodded, finally letting out the breath she'd been holding as she followed the Dixons to the door. She had a place to start now but it didn't give her any relief. If anything, she felt more nervous than ever.

"So when do we leave?" she asked, opening the front door for them.

Outside, the storm raged on. She could hear the rain lashing at Daryl's pickup out at the curb.

Both Dixons stopped in the doorway, a flash of lightning reflecting blue on their faces as they stared at her with matching expressions of surprise.

"What?" she asked, hand tightening on the doorknob. "You're not going without me."

"Well, we ain't going with you neither," Merle told her sharply. "Don't need you getting in our way."

She just glared at him.

"Carol, it ain't safe," Daryl told her, his low voice nearly drowned out by a clap of thunder.

She cut him off, "What are the two of you going to do if – _when_ you find her? Do you know how to take care of a toddler?"

They exchanged a look and she raised her brows, "That's what I thought. So like I said, when do we leave?"

Merle heaved a long-suffering sigh, his boots squelching as he stomped off down the steps and out into the storm.

Daryl watched him go, shaking his head, "We'll be here early in the morning."

She nodded and he stepped out into the rain.

"Daryl," she called out and he turned to look up at her from the bottom of the steps.

He was already drenched, silver rivers coursing down his face and little droplets clinging to his eyelashes.

"Thank you," she told him, standing up straighter and squaring her shoulders. "I'll be ready."

He nodded, his lips twitching up in some semblance of a smile, and as he jogged through the rain she could only hope she was telling the truth.


	6. Chapter 6

The rain continued overnight, a steady hum on the roof.

Carol drifted in and out of sleep for hours, too anxious to let her mind rest for long. She tossed and turned, waiting for the phone to ring again, but the house stayed quiet. And when the sky finally began to lighten behind the clouds, she climbed out of bed and started packing. By 7 am, she'd packed a lunch and dashed out with an umbrella to toss her bags into the back of the Cherokee.

Now, with nothing more to do until the Dixon brothers arrived, she stared out the window at the hazy grey morning that was just dark enough to keep the streetlights glowing faintly. Her aunt joined her there, still in her pajamas and clutching a steaming cup of coffee.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Carol?" she asked, voice still soft with sleep. It was the same question she'd asked the night before when Carol had told her of her plans. "Shouldn't you be here?"

"You'll be here," Carol told her firmly. "I know you can handle it."

"But what if the police call?"

"You can handle it," Carol repeated. "I'll call and check in every time we see a payphone."

Angela took a sip of her coffee, looking at Carol over the edge of her mug through the steam rising between them, "But I don't know what to tell them."

Carol shrugged, her shoulders heavy as she looked out at the empty street, "Tell them I'm distraught. Tell them I'm in bed. If all else fails, tell them the truth."

They were both quiet for a moment, quiet enough to hear the rumble of a pickup heading up the street.

Angela sighed, clenching the robe tighter around her waist, "What if he calls? What if he shows up here?"

Carol shook her head, sounding a lot more confident than she felt, "He won't show up here. And if he calls, you just tell him to take care of her and I'll be there soon. Wherever _there_ is."

Angela nodded, fingers trembling as she took another sip of her coffee. Carol saw Daryl's pickup turn into the driveway, rolling to a stop beside Angela's Toyota.

"Are you sure about these men?" Angela asked her, watching as Merle leaned into the bed of the pickup and hauled out a couple of lumpy garbage bags.

Carol watched Daryl stub out his cigarette in the drive, running one hand over his damp hair as he headed for the front steps, "I'm sure about one of them."

Angela frowned but Carol silenced her with a tight hug, "Take care of Mom. I know she blames herself but just, just tell her we'll be back soon."

Her aunt nodded against Carol's shoulder, "You just be careful and bring that baby home."

Daryl was lifting his arm to knock when Carol opened the door. He took a step back and cleared his throat as she stepped out, closing it firmly behind her.

"That all you're bringing?" he asked, glancing down at the pink bag swinging on her arm.

She shook her head, "No, my stuff is already in the Cherokee. This is Sophia's bag."

He nodded and she stepped out into the light mist that was still falling. It was just enough to leave her clothing damp and her curls frizzy.

Merle was already in the driver's seat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

He leaned out of the window as she rounded the front of the car, sticking his hand out in front of her and stopping her short, "You got my money?"

She nodded, pulling out the folded envelope and pressing it into his palm along with her keys.

He peered into the envelope with narrowed eyes and nodded his approval.

"Good enough," he told her, jerking his head towards the backseat. "Now move your ass, woman. We ain't got all day."

Gritting her teeth, she climbed into the backseat and twisted around to pile Sophia's bag in the back next to the Dixon's garbage bag luggage.

"Watch your knees, sugar," Merle muttered, meeting her eyes in the rearview as she turned around.

She was tempted to kick the back of his seat like a petulant child but settled for crossing her arms and glaring out the window.

* * *

Their first stop was the Motel 6 on the outskirts of town. It was cheap and convenient which, to Carol, practically screamed Ed.

Daryl told her they didn't expect to find him there but if he'd stayed recently, someone might remember him or Sophia.

As they trudged across the mostly empty parking lot, the rain was at a steady drizzle. It was like standing under a showerhead with piss-poor water pressure.

The girl sitting behind the front desk was very young and obviously very bored. She eyed them impassively, cracking her gum as Merle elbowed Daryl in the ribs.

"Ol' Merle's just gonna turn on the Dixon charm," he told them, licking his lips as he sidled over to the desk and leaned in close on his elbows.

Carol sighed and followed him over, Daryl at her heels, in time to hear to hear him crooning something about the poor girl having a "hell of a rack".

The girl just blinked at him as Carol dug around in her purse, pulling out the photo she'd scrounged up of Ed on their wedding day and her most recent picture of Sophia.

"Have you seen either of these people in the last few days?" she asked bluntly, interrupting Merle's sad excuse for a pick up line as she held the photos up in front of the girl's face.

She stared blankly at Carol before cocking her head to study the faces in the pictures. After a moment, she tapped Ed's picture with one long pink fingernail.

"He was staying here," she said. "He checked out a couple of days ago. I haven't seen the little girl though."

Carol nodded, "What day did he check out? Do you remember?"

The clerk cracked her gum again, casting her eyes towards the ceiling as she thought it over, "I guess it must have been the day before yesterday?"

"Did he say where he might be headed?" Daryl asked, leaning on the counter next to his brother.

The girl glanced over at him and shook her head, "He didn't say."

They waited but she didn't seem to have anything more to share.

"Well, thanks for your time," Carol told the girl who just shrugged in response.

She carefully tucked the pictures back into her purse, glancing up to see Daryl already holding the door open for her as she made her way across the small lobby.

She met his eyes and smiled just as the girl called out, "Is that guy in trouble or something?"

Carol paused in the doorway, glancing back to see Merle smirking as he told the girl, "Not yet. But he's gonna be."

* * *

Back out in the car, Carol watched in disbelief as Merle and Daryl devoured the sandwiches she'd packed, seemingly oblivious to the fact that it wasn't even 9 am yet.

"I think we should start heading south, check a few stations and motels along the way," Daryl told Merle around a mouthful of ham and cheese.

Merle shook his head, tearing away his crusts and tossing them out the window, "Waste of time. You know how long it might take to get a bite doing it that way?"

"What other choice we got?" Daryl asked, sounding defensive. "We gotta have some kind of direction to go on."

"When he called, he was somewhere with a lot of semi-trucks," Carol interrupted them, running through her conversation with Ed in her head. It was still crystal clear. "I could hear them in the background."

"That could be anywhere," Merle commented.

The vehicle was quiet for a moment, except for the sounds of Merle tearing open a bag of chips, and then Daryl lifted his head.

"What about that truck stop over on 100?" he asked, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "There's a payphone out by the highway. She'd hear the trucks gearing up if he was calling from there."

Merle shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and threw the Cherokee into reverse, "Worth a shot."

The rain picked up again as they pulled out onto the highway and Carol zoned out, staring out the window at the trees downed by the storm, fallen soldiers caught by their brothers-in-arms.

She heard the rasp of a lighter and soon smoke filled the air, hanging thick and heavy and tickling her nose. She could taste it on her tongue even though it'd been years since she'd smoked a cigarette, back in high school when she thought it would make her look older and more worldly.

Daryl twisted around in his seat, cigarette dangling from his lips, and extended the pack towards her as he mumbled, "Want one?"

An automatic "no" was on her tongue but one look at his sharp blue eyes, and the tendrils of smoke curling from his nose as he exhaled, had her nodding and slipping one out of the crumpled pack.

He looked startled but jumped to attention as she placed the cigarette between her lips. He dug his lighter out of his pocket, and after a few fumbles with the striker, leaned over the back of his seat to give her a light.

She met his eyes as she leaned forward to catch the flame and saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. Suddenly struck by the intimacy of their position, she quickly looked away. With all that had happened, she'd completely forgotten what Katie had told her at the bar that night. But the look on his face brought it all back.

The first puff had her coughing, and Merle laughing, but the second had her head lolling back against the seat. She moaned softly under her breath, imagining the nicotine rushing into her bloodstream.

She opened her eyes in time to see the brothers exchange a look.

"Hell, give her the whole damn pack, little brother," Merle cackled.

She scoffed at that, leaning back as she watched the smoke swirl through the air and fade away.

"So you work at Blue Diamonds, huh?" Merle asked after a moment, catching her eye in the rearview and smirking.

"Yeah," she nodded, cracking her window just enough to tap the ash off the end of her cigarette. "Cocktail waitress."

"Is that so?" Merle said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel again, "You know, they say them cocktail waitresses are just one step from the pole."

She rolled her eyes and Daryl punched his brother in the arm, earning a smack to the back of his skull that made even her head ache.

"Look at you defending her honor, little brother!" Merle crowed, reaching over to shove at his brother's shoulder. "He's sweet ain't he, Carol?"

She tried to catch Daryl's eye but he was slumped down in the seat with his arms crossed, staring out the window.

"He is," she agreed, choosing her words carefully. "He's a good man."

Merle let out a low whistle and she winced as she saw Daryl's ears reddening.

She was sure Merle was going to humiliate him and it would be all her fault. But just then, like a beacon from above, she saw the big red and yellow sign for the truck stop looming ahead and Merle turned into the parking lot, saving them both from further embarrassment.

He rolled to a stop near the building and put the Cherokee in park. When no one moved to get out, he twisted around in his seat to look at both of them with the devil's own smile.

"So, you two lovebirds want a moment alone?"


	7. Chapter 7

The first place was a bust.

In fact, a few more hours and a few more truck stops passed before they got a lead.

The woman behind the cash register at the Pilot in Wignall seemed to remember one of the waitresses, Tabitha, mentioning something strange about a little girl after her shift a few nights before.

But she knew nothing more and Tabitha wouldn’t be in for a few hours.

That gave them time to kill. Time that, to Carol, seemed like an eternity.

For the first hour they drank iced tea, and Merle badgered Carol out of all of her quarters until he’d played every Lynyrd Skynyrd song on the jukebox. Carol thought if she never heard “Tuesday’s Gone” again, it would be too soon.

Daryl ordered peach cobbler for her, which was very sweet of him, but she only managed one bite and he finished off the rest.

Another hour passed with no sign of Tabitha; the waiting was starting to get to Carol. She couldn’t sit still. She couldn’t breathe.

She left Merle inside, hitting on the poor, frazzled waitresses, and went out to pace the parking lot. Daryl followed and leaned against the building, watching her with a stillness that was almost unnerving.

“How do you do that?” she asked after a few minutes, feeling as though she might explode from either exasperation or too much sugar.

His heard jerked up as she stopped in front of him, “What?”

“How do you stand so still? Like a statue?”

He shifted, “Don’t know. Guess it comes from hunting. Got to listen and be still or you’ll give yourself away.”

She considered that for a moment, “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“What?”

She shook her head, “Nothing. Can I bum another cigarette?”

He squinted at her as though trying to make out something written in tiny print but dug the crumpled pack out of his pocket and held it out to her.

She took one and put it between her lips, eyes on his hand and hand on his wrist as she leaned forward to catch the flame from his lighter.

“So I guess you hunt a lot, huh?” she asked after a while, blowing smoke above his head.

“Not as much as I used to.”

He lit a cigarette of his own.

“You liked hunting when you were a kid? It didn’t bother you to kill Bambi?” she teased, trying to picture him as a child and finding it difficult.

“Needed the food,” he shrugged, eyes on the ground beneath her feet.

“Oh,” she said stupidly, looking away from his face as her own burned with embarrassment. Her cigarette burned too, forgotten between her fingers. “Oh, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t –”

He cleared his throat, cutting her off, “Don’t worry about it.”

A semi passed by, heading for the highway with gears grinding and engine humming.

“I’ve never been,” she told him, when it was quiet again. “Hunting, I mean. Ed wasn’t a hunter and neither was my father. I guess I never understood the appeal.”

He shrugged again, “Most people don’t get it. But it ain’t all about the kill every time, unless you’re hungry. Sometimes it’s just nice to get away from everything and get out where it’s quiet.”

She closed her eyes, listening to the highway sounds and smelling diesel fuel, “That does sound nice.”

She opened them just in time to catch him looking at her.

“Maybe – maybe you’ll take me along one day? After all this is over?” she asked before she could stop herself, biting her lip as he turned his eyes back to hers.

Just imagining a future where she had Sophia back, where all was well, alleviated some of the pain in her chest that was making it so difficult to breathe.

“Yeah,” he nodded slowly . “Yeah, that’d be alright.”

She offered him as much of a smile as she could manage and laid her hand on his arm, thumb stroking across his skin as she spoke, “Good. I’m going to go call Aunt Angela, okay?”

He looked down at her hand and then up to her face, “Go ahead. I’ll be right here.”

She knew he would. He was always right there.

The payphone was over by the fuel island and she studied it as she walked towards it, wondering if that’s where Ed had been when he called her that night.

She brushed that thought aside as she dialed the sticky numbers and pressed the receiver to her ear.

As it rang, she glanced up at the sky to find it was still gray. But to her surprise, the first weak signs of sunlight were starting to peek through the clouds.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

By the time she hung up the phone and headed back around front, the Dixons were talking to a young woman in a waitress uniform.

Merle nodded his head in Carol’s direction as she stepped up onto the sidewalk next to Daryl, “This here is Carol.”

“Tabitha,” the woman told her, giving Carol’s hand a firm enough shake to rattle the dozen or so mismatched bangles on her arm.

Carol nodded, noticing the woman’s smile didn’t quite reach her dark eyes.

“You got the pictures?” Daryl nudged her and Carol reached into her purse for them.

Tabitha studied the two photographs quickly, her expression wary.

She looked up and then over at Merle, “I – I don’t know. I don’t want any trouble.”

“We don’t want any trouble either,” Carol said quickly, drawing the woman’s attention back to her. “I just want to find my little girl.”

Tabitha studied her for a long moment, chewing her bottom lip, but finally nodded her head towards the door, “Alright, come with me.”

The three of them followed her to a small employee break room with a humming refrigerator and a buzzing overhead light. They sat down in hard plastic chairs around a table littered with old fast food napkins.

“So,” Tabitha started, looking down at the photographs again before handing them back to Carol, “is this guy your husband?”

Carol shook her head, “No, but he’s my daughter’s father. He left me while I was pregnant with her. He’d never even seen her before he took off with her.”

“She was screaming her little head off when he brought her in,” Tabitha told her quietly, tapping her fingernails on the table. “I thought she was just cranky.”

Carol’s stomach turned.

“Was she okay?” she asked, her throat tight. “Was she hurt?”

“No,” Tabitha answered quickly, eyes meeting hers. “No, she wasn’t hurt.”

Carol released the breath she’d been holding, automatically glancing across the table at Daryl. He was worrying the skin around his thumbnail with his teeth but lifted his head and sat up straighter under her gaze.

“The kitchen was closing up when they got here but I went in the back and got her a bowl of ice cream with sprinkles,” Tabitha told them, tapping her fingernails again, a sharp rat-a-tat-tat. She glanced over at Carol, “I hope that was okay.”

Carol nodded, smiling tightly.

Tabitha smiled back, “That seemed to cheer her up. Then she wanted to go over to the big claw machine. To win a stuffed animal? But I ran out of quarters before we got anything.”

Daryl butted in, finding Carol’s eyes as he spoke, “Where was Ed during all this?”

“He was in and out. Mostly out,” Tabitha said, biting at her lip again. “That’s why I stayed after my shift was over. He kept leaving her to go out to the payphone. When he was inside, he was pacing and watching the clock or looking out the windows.”

She paused, looking stricken, “I just thought he was waiting on someone or had somewhere to be, you know? But it was so late, I should have realized – ”

Carol cut her off, “You couldn’t have known.”

“Anything else happen?” Merle prompted after a moment in that rough, raspy voice of his. “He say anything to you?”

Tabitha’s eyes narrowed in thought and she stared down at the table, “Not really. I handed her over to him when I got ready to leave and told him not to leave her alone because you never know what kind of people are around here. He ignored me and told her they were going home soon.”

Carol’s eyes met Daryl’s and he raised his eyebrows.

“And she was okay when you left?” Carol asked, looking back to Tabitha.

She nodded, “She was getting sleepy. I would have stayed with her but I – I had to go.”

A woman opened the door just then and peeked her head in, “Tabby? We need you out here, sweetie.”

Tabitha nodded and told her she’d be right out.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to get to work,” she told them as they all stood. “Was there anything else you needed to know?”

Carol shook her head, “No, I don’t think so. But thank you so much for your help and for taking care of my little girl while she was here.”

Tabitha nodded, looking away, but she caught Carol by the arm before she could follow the Dixons out into the hallway.

“I’ve got three at home myself, honey,” she told her, eyes bright. “I hope you find your baby.”

Carol squeezed her hand, tears stinging at her eyes as something strong, something powerful rose up within her.

“I will.”

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“So,” Merle asked as they climbed back into the Cherokee, “where’s home to Ed Peletier?”

Carol took a deep, steadying breath, “Last I heard, he was living down in Florida with some woman named Brenda.”

“Where at in Florida?” Daryl twisted around in his seat to face her.

“North Florida,” she told him, eyes absently focusing on his lips as she racked her brain for the name of the town. “It was Lake something or other. Lake…Lake Butler, maybe?”

Merle piped up from the driver’s seat, “You think that’s where he’s at?”

“I don’t know. The only other place I can think of is Virginia since that’s where he’s from. He’s still got family there.”

The brothers exchanged a look.

“Might as well hit Florida first,” Daryl said. “We’re as close as we’ll ever be.”

“Hell yeah! Wouldn’t mind a little sunshine,” Merle crowed, putting the Cherokee into reverse. He caught Carol’s eyes in the rearview mirror and winked. “Hope you packed your bikini, sugar.”


	8. Chapter 8

It was late by the time they crossed the line into Florida.

Carol stared out the window at the spindly, towering pine trees that seemed to be closing ranks around the dark, two-lane highway as they approached Lake Butler. It wasn’t a welcoming place.

From what she could tell, the town only had one traffic light. The “downtown” area consisted of nothing more than a convenience store, a bar, a church, and a rundown old motel.

The motel, clearly built in the fifties before the interstate sucked up all the tourists heading for the beaches, had a “Vacancy” sign out front but it wasn’t flashing. Carol was surprised to see that the small parking lot was nearly full.

Merle went in to check things out while she waited in the car with Daryl.

“Clerk said he ain’t seen no little girls or anybody that looks like Ed,” Merle reported when he returned, leaning against the doorframe.

She sighed as another flicker of hope was extinguished.

“Well?” Daryl pressed him. “Did you get the rooms?”

“Room, little brother. Singular.”

Carol stared at him blankly.

“Turns out there’s a race out here this weekend. Dirt track,” he explained, smirking when he met her eyes over the seat. “The man only had one room left.”

And what a room it was - dingy carpet, an old black and white television, and two double beds.

Merle flopped down on one of them, seemingly unfazed by the mysterious stains on the comforter, while she and Daryl hesitated in the doorway, bags in hand.

“Go ahead,” he nodded towards the other bed. “I’ll just sleep in the car.”

She felt suddenly, strangely sick at the thought of that. “Can’t you just share with Merle?”

“I look like some kind of prancing fairy to you?” Merle snapped, lighting a cigarette. “His ass can sleep on the floor.”

She looked doubtfully at the small bed. “I guess we could share?”

He shook his head. “No, it ain’t no big deal. I’ll be fine outside.”

He reached for the door and she grabbed his wrist. “Don’t.”

He looked surprised. Her eyes flickered towards Merle who was seemingly oblivious to their conversation, sat proudly on his claimed bed flicking through the precious few television channels.

It wasn’t that she was afraid of Merle. He was rough around the edges, uncouth and uncivilized, but she didn’t think he would do something terrible to her if they were alone in a room together overnight.

But still, she held fast to Daryl’s arm. “It’s too hot to sleep out there. I’ll make something up for you on the floor.”

He studied her face for a moment and then nodded. “Alright then.”

She squeezed his arm, grateful, and set her bags down on the floor.

“We should hit that bar tonight,” Merle told them, leaning back on his elbows to watch Carol gather up the shoddy comforter.

She shot him a look of disgust over her shoulder and he snorted, “Jump off my dick, woman. Those are his kind of people. If he’s around here, they’ll know.”

“Why would they tell us anything?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” he winked. “Just leave it up to ol’ Merle.”

 

* * *

 

A charming hand-painted sign out front told them that the bar was called The Hideaway and that bikers were welcome.

Inside it was dark and smoky as one might expect. The floor was uneven and Carol stumbled more than once, wondering how anyone could possibly navigate it after a long night of drinking.

The place was strangely empty for a Friday night. She only saw a few couples scattered at the tables and a couple of drunks hanging onto the bar.

Daryl made a beeline for the bathroom while Carol followed Merle over to talk to the bartender.

The man eyed him warily, wiping his hands on the towel hanging from his waist.

“Double Maker’s,” Merle told him and Carol jammed her elbow into his ribs. He cursed under his breath and added, “You know, I been looking for my buddy Ed Peletier. You seen him around here lately?”

“Nope,” the bartender answered, turning to grab the bottle off the shelf.

“Man of few words,” Merle muttered. He threw his arm over Carol’s shoulders and leaned down to whisper in her ear, too close for comfort, “Remind me, sugar, what was his woman’s name?”

“Brenda,” she told him, turning her face away from his. “Brenda Coats.”

“How ‘bout Brenda Coats?” Merle spoke up. “You seen her around?”

The bartender’s eyes shot to a man sitting a little ways down the bar and the man turned on his stool, propping one elbow up on the bar as he fixed them a cock-eyed glare.

The man had thinning red hair and a scruffy red beard. He wasn’t very tall but he was built like a barrel and had the darkest, meanest eyes Carol had ever seen.

“Who’s asking about Brenda?”

Merle downed his shot and motioned for another. A shit-eating grin was already working its way across his face. “I’m asking.”

The man stood. “What you want with her?”

Merle looked like he was ready to play but Carol wriggled out from under his arm, stopping the scene cold.

“I’m Carol,” she told the man, offering him her hand. “I’m really the one looking for her. I need Brenda’s help finding my little girl.”

“Stevie,” he told her, narrowing his eyes as he wrapped her hand up in a bone-crushing grip. “What’s Brenda got to do with your kid?”

“If it’s the same Brenda, she knows my daughter’s father,” Carol answered, unsure of how much to give away. She didn’t want this man angry, either at her or the mysterious Brenda. “We just want to ask her if she has any idea where he might be. He took off with my daughter a few days ago and I’m trying to get her back.”

He stared at her, unblinking, and she got the feeling he didn’t miss a thing.

Behind Stevie, she saw Daryl emerge from the bathroom. She knew the moment he noticed the tension in the air by the way he slowed, his shoulders stiffening as he gauged the situation. He stopped next to Carol, standing closer to her than usual as he sized the man up.

Carol sighed. They were like a bunch of wild dogs, posturing and circling.

Stevie sat down on his stool and picked up his drink, seemingly unbothered by the Dixons. That sent a cold shiver rolling down Carol’s spine.

He tipped back his beer. “Well, good luck finding her. She took off for her mama’s house a couple of days ago. Couldn’t even tell me herself. Just left a note on the kitchen counter.”

“Where’s her mama’s house?” Carol asked, exchanging a look with Daryl.

Stevie looked at her with something in his dark eyes that she thought might be sympathy. “Memphis.”

“Memphis?” she repeated, hoping she’d heard him wrong.

Stevie just nodded and drained his glass. Her legs gave out on her and she sat down hard on the nearest stool, burying her face in her hands.

“A couple of days ago, huh?” Merle asked, tapping his fingers on the bar. “That’d be right around the time the kid went missing, right?”

“Maybe she was meeting Ed in Memphis,” Daryl cut in, obviously following Merle’s line of thinking.

“Hell, I wouldn’t doubt it,” Stevie muttered. “Always reckoned she was still hung up on that bastard.”

Merle downed his second shot like it was water. “You got an address or a phone number for her mama?”

“Might. Don’t know it right off the top of my head.”

Carol took a deep, shuddering breath, jamming the heels of her palms into her eyes to stop the hot, wet stinging. Daryl squeezed her shoulder and she leaned into his touch, feeling like she might just break down in the middle of this stupid bar.

When she finally lifted her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears, Stevie grimaced.

“Got a pen?”

 

* * *

 

Daryl said it was about an eleven hour drive but it might as well have been all the way across the world.

Only two days had passed since Sophia disappeared but it felt like she’d been drowning in this anguish for weeks. She was beginning to wonder if there could even be an end to this nightmare.

The little room was quiet. She could hear the faint hum of the occasional car passing on the highway mingling with the soft sounds of Merle snoring. Daryl was still and silent on the floor between the beds and she figured he must be asleep.

She wished desperately that she was sleeping too. It was almost painful how much she didn’t want to be here.

She rolled over on the stiff sheets and stared up at a crack in the ceiling without really seeing it. Her brain wouldn’t slow down enough to sleep. Not when her daughter was still out there, scared and probably hungry. She didn’t know her father, if one could even call him that.

Sophia was probably crying for her right now. She wouldn’t understand why her mother wasn’t there.

Her throat tightened as a familiar burn started up behind her eyes. She rolled over, burying her face into the pillow as the waves of pain washed over her. She rode them out as best she could, clutching at the pillowcase and trying to muffle her crying.

She heard Daryl shifting around on the floor and held her breath for a moment, hoping he was still asleep.

He cleared his throat, “You okay?”

She didn’t reply. It was a stupid question.

Seconds ticked by with only Merle’s snoring to mark their passing.

“Do you think we’ll ever find her?” she asked softly, her words muffled by the pillow.

“That what you’re crying about?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

She nodded even though she knew he couldn’t see her. Of course that was what she was crying about – another stupid question. But she couldn’t blame Daryl for not knowing how to handle her. She didn’t know how to handle herself either and he was doing a pretty good job, considering.

He heaved a sigh and sat up, kneeling by the bed. She shifted to face him and could just make out his silhouette by the blue moonlight filtering in the through the blinds. His hair was sticking up in a dozen different directions, like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket, and she knew it was because he’d been running his hands through it.

“Ain’t no need for all that crying,” he mumbled and she felt the mattress shift as he leaned on the edge of it. His voice was firm, “We’ve only been looking for a day. You gotta give it time.”

She nodded. “I know. I know that, I’m just so scared that – ”

She felt his hand land on her knee, warm through the cotton sheets. “What? What are you scared of?”

She sniffled and he reached out to wipe away her tears, his fingers stopping short as if he only realized at the last second what he was about to do.

She caught his hand and rested it against her face, pressing her cheek into his warm touch. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’m scared I’m never going to see her again,” she confessed in a strained voice, her fingers tightening around his.

“We’re gonna find her,” he told her firmly, his thumb slowly, gently stroking her skin. “We’re gonna find her and we’re gonna take care of her and she’s gonna be just fine.”

There were a million things she wanted to say but all that came out was, “You promise?”

He nodded once. “Promise.”


	9. Chapter 9

“ _I haven’t eaten a bite or slept for three days and nights_.”

Merle was howling from the back seat, his voice possessing all the qualities of sandpaper and just as pleasant on her ears. Over the last few hours he’d gone through every country song he could think of that mentioned Memphis and she was pretty sure she’d lost her mind somewhere back in Georgia.

“ _That’s how I got to Memphis, that’s how I got to Memphis_.”

Carol and Daryl exchanged a tortured look. She turned to glare at Merle over her shoulder.

“Do you mind?” she snapped when she caught his eye.

He sat up and she heaved a long-suffering sigh when she noticed the predatory gleam in his eye. She hadn’t known Merle Dixon for very long but she could tell he was just itching for a fight. It was written all over him.

He leaned forward, right up close to her face. “What, you got something against ol’ Tom T?”

“I’ve got something against your singing,” she told him, turning to stare out the window.

Beside her, Daryl snorted.

“Aw, come on, sugar,” Merle murmured, settling his chin on her shoulder and crooning softly in her ear, “ _Thank you for your precious time, forgive me if I start to cry, that’s how I got to Memphis_ …”

Daryl reached back with one hand and shoved Merle roughly back into his seat.

It had been a long day for all of them. The clock said it was only 6:14 but it seemed like they’d been driving for days.

They stopped outside the city to get gas and Carol got out to stretch her legs, noticing the air smelled like rain.

She leaned against the Cherokee, watching Daryl as he crossed the parking lot. He had a nice walk, she thought; it was purposeful but loose-hipped. And then she wanted to kick herself for even noticing.

Merle rolled the window down and peered out at her, following her gaze. “Got your eye on something?”

She ignored him and he tapped her on the shoulder. “Talking to you, sugar. You deaf?”

“Nearly, thanks to you.”

He chuckled at that and climbed out of the backseat. She rolled her eyes as he stretched his arms over his head, yawning, and then settled one loosely around her shoulders.

“Now, I don’t know what your plans are for my baby brother,” he started and she cut him off with a sharp look. He held his hand up to stop her. “Hear me out, woman. I’m just looking out for the both of you.”

“I’m sure,” she muttered, trying to shrug his arm off.

He just moved his hand to the back of her neck. “It’s just that y’all are two different people and I reckon y’all are probably looking for two different things. You follow me?”

She stared up at him, eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I do.”

“Well then, let me put it this way,” he said, looking upwards as if he was searching the sky for the right words. “I reckon you’re a woman who likes to cuddle. Am I right?”

She shot him a look of disgust and he continued.

“Now my baby brother, he’ll fuck you,” Merle smirked. “But I don’t think he’ll be much on cuddling.”

She looked away, cheeks burning furiously. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that but she was still struggling to reconcile the Daryl she knew with the Daryl everyone else seemed to know.

Across the parking lot, she saw him heading their way with a frown on his face.

Merle moved his hand away from her neck and crossed his arms over his chest. “Hell, I might be wrong though. I’m beginning to think you’ve got him pretty well wrapped.”

He waved his pinky at her and she glared back. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten or if you’re just stupid, Merle but my daughter is still missing. That’s the only thing I’m concerned with right now.”

He winked at her. “Ain’t stopped you from looking though, has it?”

She was ready to cuss him up one wall and down another when Daryl interrupted her.

“They only had two hot dogs left,” he told them, opening the bag to show them. “Figured we could split ‘em.”

Merle snagged one of the foil wrapped buns and tore into it before Daryl could finish his sentence.

She saw Daryl glare at his brother and Merle gave him a big smile, his mouth full of food. “What?”

Daryl just shook his head and handed her the other hot dog. “Here.”

It was still warm.

“No, that’s okay. You eat it. I’m not that hungry.”

“Go ahead,” he insisted, refusing to take it from her hand.

“Christ almighty,” Merle muttered as he rounded the front of the car, already half-finished eating. “You two lovebirds act like that’s the last goddamned hot dog on earth. Split it and get something else later. Fuck.”

He climbed behind the wheel and Daryl leaned into the car to punch him in the shoulder.

Carol just looked away. 

* * *

 By 7:30, they were hopelessly lost.

They’d driven up and down Walker Street but hadn’t even seen a house, much less one with the right number on it.

It was Merle’s bright idea to stop at a bar to ask for directions. She was sure he had other motivations for wanting to go in but she and Daryl followed him anyway. There was no reigning in Merle Dixon once he got an idea in his head.

The place was pretty full for 7:30 and country music was already pumping through the sound system.

Carol wasn’t in the mood. She lingered by the door, watching Merle and Daryl as they tried to corner the harried bartender.

“Looking good, honey.”

She turned to see the words came from a man in a cowboy hat who was suddenly standing much too close to her. He grinned when he saw that he had her attention.

“How ‘bout a dance?”

He trailed his fingers down her bare arm and she snatched it away, glaring at him over her shoulder. “Leave me alone.”

“Hey, relax, it’s just one dance!” he chuckled. “Ain’t like I’m asking you for a roll in the hay.”

“I don’t want to dance,” she told him, her tone as cold as ice.

His smile tightened and she turned away again to look for Daryl, figuring the cowboy had gotten the hint.

But then she felt his hands, sweaty and strong around her waist. She yelped as he spun her around and pulled her tight up against him.

“Come on, baby. You’ll enjoy yourself,” he told her, dragging her out towards the dance floor. “You need to loosen up and lucky for you, I’m just the man for the job.”

He grabbed a handful of her ass and she yelped, struggling against his grip. She tried to fight back the instinctive panic that made her want to scream and lash out at him, well aware that doing so would probably only earn her a slap across the face from a guy like him.

“Hey!” a voice barked from behind them, loud enough to make people turn and stare.

Over the cowboy’s shoulder she saw Merle and Daryl closing in, shoving their way through the crowd.

Time seemed to slow as she watched Merle catch the man by the collar of his shirt and yank him backwards so hard his hat flew right off his head.

She didn’t realize she was shaking until Daryl put his arm around her.

“I got you,” he told her, squeezing her tighter as she wrapped her arms around him . “You’re alright.”

Behind her, she heard Merle and the cowboy arguing and turned to see them squared up toe-to-toe. It didn’t look like a fair fight from where she was standing.

“Who the fuck do you think you are putting your goddamned hands on me?”

Merle laughed. “Shit, man, I ain’t even put my hands on you yet. When I do, you’ll sure as hell know it.”

“You think I’m scared of you, asshole?”

Merle shoved him and he shoved back. Daryl stepped in between her and the action, tugging her behind him just as Merle swung on the guy.

The cowboy stumbled backwards, almost falling on his ass. And then she figured he must have realized this was a fight he couldn’t win because he hauled back and kicked Merle right in the Dixon family jewels.

Merle doubled over and the cowboy swung around to face them, looking pretty damn proud of himself.

And Daryl knocked him out with one punch. 

* * *

 

Merle was still walking funny when they made it outside, having been rather strongly encouraged by the bouncer to leave and never come back.  

Daryl stood talking to him by the door but she kept an eye on Merle, watching him lean back against a car parked at the curb.

She wandered over to him, wrapping her arms around herself.

“You okay?” she asked him.

He looked over at her and managed to grin. “Why, you wanna kiss it and make it better?”

She stared at him. “No, I might want to _kick_ it though.”

He covered himself with both hands and turned his hips away from her. “Don’t even joke like that, woman.”

“What I was going to say, before you made me threaten you, was thank you. And I’m sorry you got hurt.”

He looked at her for a minute and then looked at the sidewalk. “Don’t worry about it, sugar. I’ve had worse.”

She felt Daryl behind her then, his hand brushing against hers as he stopped beside her.

“The bouncer said we’re on Walker Street but we’re probably looking for Walker Avenue,” he told them. “He told me to head north on 240 and we’ll run right into it. Said it’s right by the big cemetery.”

“Oh good,” Carol said wearily, following the brothers back to the Cherokee. “So we’re looking for a cemetery.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Fuckin’ Memphis. Fuck Memphis. Need to get my happy ass back to Georgia.”

Merle banged on the door again, grumbling under his breath about his growing hatred for Memphis, while Carol and Daryl stood dripping behind him.

They were a sorry sight. The sky had opened up shortly after they left the bar, they’d all gotten soaked running for the porch, and now no one was coming to the door.

“Might’ve seen us coming,” Daryl muttered, shifting impatiently next to her.

He was coiled tight, ready to spring. She could feel the nervous energy rolling off of him.

Merle turned and looked at them, shrugging his shoulders.

Just then they heard a voice from inside. “Coming!”

A light flicked on behind the window and a moment later the door opened to reveal a pleasantly plump older woman with a sweet round face and long grey hair.

She was smiling but when she caught sight of Merle her expression changed to one that could only be described as nonplussed. “Oh! Can I help you?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m here to share the word of God,” Merle told her as he shoved the door open all the way and stepped inside.

The woman was forced to step back, clutching at her housecoat and clearly flustered. Daryl motioned for Carol to hang back and followed Merle inside.

Merle wrapped his arm around the woman’s shoulders, turning her away from Daryl, and said, “Now, what’s your name, sweet thing?”

She didn’t even see Daryl slipping off down the hallway. Carol moved closer to the door, listening for some sort of sign that he’d found something and trying to ignore the fact that they’d just broken into this poor woman’s house.

“May,” the woman told Merle uncertainly, looking up at him towering over her. “And what’s your name?”

“It’s Merle, sweet thing, but you just call me whatever you like,” he purred, laying it on thick.

“Merle,” Carol said quietly and he released the woman just as Daryl emerged from the shadowy hallway.

“Nothing,” he told his brother, his eyes on Carol.

Her chest constricted. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. She hadn’t realized until that moment how much she’d been counting on Sophia being here.

She should have known.

“What’s going on here?” May demanded, spinning around to look from Daryl to Carol then back to Merle. “What do you want?”

Her voice sounded strangely distant. Carol swayed on her feet, light-headed, and suddenly Daryl was at her side, guiding her to the sofa.

She heard them murmuring above her, heard them explaining the situation to May. Minutes passed and then someone was pressing a cold glass of water into her hands.

May sat down beside her, eyes brimming with compassion. “I’m so sorry, honey. I had no idea that he wasn’t supposed to have that little girl or I wouldn’t have ever let him stay here.”

“So they were here?” Carol asked faintly.

May nodded. “They just stayed the night. Let’s see, that must have been Thursday night. They left yesterday morning.”

“How was Sophia?”

“She was okay. She was a quiet little thing, didn’t smile much, but I fed her a good supper and we watched TV,” May smiled a little and looked at the floor. “She was only here for a little while but I tried to cheer her up.”

Carol closed her eyes, rubbing at her temples. So as of yesterday her little girl was okay. She might not be happy but she was alive.

“Thank you,” she told May, taking her soft, warm hand in her own and squeezing it.

“Ed isn’t the brightest bulb,” May sighed. “He didn’t have a clue what to do with the poor little thing but at least Brenda was helping him some.”

“She left with them?” Carol asked, hopeful. “Do you know where they were going?”

“Brenda told me they were going to stay with my daughter Tammy. She lives up in Martinsville.”

“Virginia?” Merle asked and May shook her head.

“Indiana.”

The three of them groaned as one. Of course she lived in Indiana.

“Have you talked to them?” Daryl asked. “They made it up there yet?”

“I haven’t,” May shook her head. “But they should have made it last night. I can give Tammy a call.”

“Would you?” Carol asked, squeezing her hand again. “Please?”

The woman bustled over to the phone and Daryl immediately sat down in the place she’d vacated. Without thinking, Carol grabbed his hand as well, her heart pounding as she watched May dial the number.

“Tammy? It’s Mama, sweetie.”

Carol sucked in a sharp breath. She could feel Daryl’s eyes on her.

“Yes, I’m doing just fine. Listen, honey, are Brenda and Ed there with that little girl?”

Carol tried desperately to read the woman’s face. May shot her a sympathetic look.

“Oh? When did they leave? Just a few hours ago?”

Carol hung her head and Daryl tightened his fingers around hers. She focused on the feeling of his thumb rubbing up and down along the back of her hand, closing her eyes and trying not to be sick all over May’s clean white carpet.

“Oh, Brenda’s still there?” May perked up. “Well then put her on the phone, sweetie.”

Carol’s head snapped up and she saw the woman frown.

“What do you mean she won’t talk to me? You tell her to get on this phone right this second! Never you mind why I’m asking about Ed. Well, where’s she going?”

Daryl and Merle exchanged a look. This didn’t bode well.

“Tammy, what in the world is wrong with her?” May looked like she was on the verge of tears. “Talk to her, Tammy. See if you can get her to call me.”

May hung up the phone and they all sat there in silence for a moment.

“Brenda always was a wild one,” May told them with a nervous smile. “She’s hard-headed and strong-willed but she’s not a bad person. I think she knows she’s done something wrong and she’s ashamed of herself.”

Carol nodded as if she understood, as if she cared about Brenda and her problems. When it became clear that there was nothing more to say, they all stood.

“I’ll give you their address,” May offered suddenly, her eyes brightening. “Maybe if she sees you she’ll come to her senses. Lord knows she could use some sense.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” Carol told her. “Really, it means so much to me.”

“Oh, dear, it was nothing,” May said. “Now, y’all are going to stay here with me for the night and get some sleep then I’ll make y’all a big breakfast in the morning and send you on your way.”

“Oh no,” Carol protested. “No, we couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“Nonsense, it’s the least I can do. It’s late and it’s raining cats and dogs out there. I’ll just go make up the guest bed for you two,” she told them with a sweet smile before looking over at Merle. “And you, young man, can take the couch.”

Carol stared at her and then at Daryl, wide-eyed. He looked equally taken aback.

“Oh, we’re not – ” she began but May was already bustling off down the hallway.

Merle took one look at the two of them and then sidled off after May, cackling like a madman.

Down the hallway, Carol heard him say, “Well, I might just sneak on in after the lovebirds are asleep and share _your_ bed, sweet thing. How ‘bout that?”

“Oh hush, you.”

 

* * *

 

 

By the time she showered and changed into dry clothes, it really was late.

As Daryl took his shower she stood in the middle of the bedroom, paralyzed by indecision.

It was a queen-sized bed and they were both responsible adults so really, there shouldn’t be anything wrong with sharing. It wasn’t like they were going to rip their clothes off and go wild the moment they laid down next to each other. Maybe she was attracted to Daryl and maybe he was attracted to her but they both had self-control. Besides, there were more pressing matters at hand.

Outside, it was still pouring and Carol could hear the distant rumble of thunder.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.”

She turned to see Daryl emerging from the bathroom in just his jeans, still rubbing at his hair with a towel.

“You don’t have to,” she said and he froze mid-toweling to stare at her. “I mean, this bed is a little bigger than the one at the motel so it should be okay, right?”

He swallowed hard and when he spoke, his voice sounded a little hoarse. “Uh, yeah. Should be.”

“Good,” she said stiffly and then repeated it to herself. “Good.”

Daryl tossed the towel into the hamper, she turned off the lamp, and they laid down on opposite sides of the bed.

Lightning flashed blue through the curtains, lighting up the room for just a moment.

She felt strangely jittery, hyperaware of the space she took up in the bed and the heat rolling off of Daryl’s body. She squirmed, trying to get comfortable, and when her hand brushed against his arm, they both jumped.

“Sorry,” he muttered and she felt the bed shift as he tried to settle himself closer to the edge.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “I don’t even know why we’re acting this way. We probably won’t get in trouble if we touch each other.”

She winced as soon as the words left her mouth. “I mean – you know what I mean.”

He snorted. “I don’t know, I reckon Mrs. May might give us hell if she found out we weren’t really married.”

Carol almost smiled. “I can’t believe she thought that.”

“You know Merle ain’t ever gonna let us forget this,” Daryl told her and she could hear the smile in his voice as well.

She rolled her eyes. “I can handle Merle.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You can, can’t you?”

“What?”

He shuffled onto his side to face her and she looked over at him.

“You don’t let Merle get under your skin as much as other people do,” he said. “Don’t reckon he knows what to do with you.”

“Well, fortunately Merle doesn’t have to do anything with me.”

Daryl laughed at that, really laughed, and then they fell silent again.

She lay there for a long time, listening to his even breathing and praying that Martinsville would give them the answers they needed.

She wondered where Sophia was at that very moment. What was she doing? Was she asleep or was Ed still dragging her around somewhere? Was she hungry? Was she scared?

Did she feel as cold and alone as Carol did right now?

She looked over at Daryl, still facing her on his side, and wondered if holding his hand or snuggling up to his side or _something_ would make this empty feeling go away. She’d been told over and over that he wasn’t the “cuddling” type but this wasn’t romantic, was it? This was needing his warmth and his strength.

She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t about Daryl, that he could be anyone and she’d feel the same way.

“Daryl?”

“Hm?”

“Can we,” she began then stopped to gather her nerve and tried again. “Do you think you could…could you hold me? Just for a little while?”

He was silent for so long that she thought she might cry.

“You sure?” he finally asked.

She thought about it again, wondering if she was losing her mind. “Yes. If you think it would be okay.”

He took a deep breath and she held hers.

“C’mere,” he murmured, opening his arms.

She scooted into them, burying her face in his chest, and felt his hand settle on her back. Honestly, she’d forgotten that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. For a moment, she was overwhelmed by the feeling of his bare skin against hers. It was hot, smooth, and still smelled like soap -- Irish Spring if she wasn’t mistaken.

She could hear his heart beating, could hear him breathing and his throat working as he swallowed hard.

And it didn’t make the feeling go away but it smoothed the sharp edges, making it easier to bear.

She pulled herself closer to him, fingertips pressing into his back, and murmured his name without really meaning to.

She lifted her head, he tilted his down towards hers, and like two puzzle pieces fitting together, their lips met. It was just a taste, smoke and honey, and then it was gone. He pulled back, still close enough for his nose to brush against her cheek and his warm breath to ghost across her lips.

He started to say something but she closed the space between them, her hand on the back of his neck as she took one more taste of him.

They were both breathing a little harder by the time she was finished. She looked up into his eyes, unsure of what she saw there, and then down at his mouth, distracted by the sight of him running his tongue along his bottom lip.

Her heart was hammering against her ribs and for a moment, she felt warm all over.

But then the guilt came flooding in, ice cold, and filled her up inside until she felt like she was choking. Her daughter was in danger and here she was kissing the sexy bouncer from work.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, sounding pained. 

She felt him trying to pull away and held fast. Maybe it was wrong, maybe she shouldn’t have kissed him, and maybe the guilt would kill her. But she still needed to feel his arms around her, at least for tonight.

“Please?” she asked and it came out sounding broken.

“I shouldn’t,” he started to say but his words trailed off into silence as she turned her face into his neck.

And when she woke up the next morning, he was still holding her.


	11. Chapter 11

Morning came too soon.

From the moment she opened her eyes, there was no confusion about the events of the night before, no doubt in her mind whose chest her head was resting on or whose legs were entwined with her own.

It had been a long time since she'd woken up next to a man and she realized now that she'd never woken up next to one quite like Daryl Dixon.

He breathed in, his chest expanding under her cheek, and she looked up to find him watching her through hooded eyes.

"Mornin'," he mumbled, absently rubbing his hand up and down her back.

She looked away from his face before she fell in farther. "Good morning."

His hand stilled. "You alright?"

"Uh, yeah," she told him, finally sitting up and rubbing at her bleary eyes. "You?"

"Mmhm."

He stretched and she couldn't help but watch the muscles in his chest and arms as they pulled tight beneath his skin. He cradled his hands behind his head and let her stare, his eyes on her face.

"I feel like I should apologize," she started but he cut her off.

"You ain't got nothing to apologize for."

She didn't know what else to say. She wanted to tell him that she had wanted to kiss him, that she didn't regret that, just that it had to happen now, like this. But nothing came out.

He looked at her a while as if he was waiting for her to say something more.

When she didn't, he finally sat up and climbed out of the bed, leaving her sitting there alone staring at where he'd been.

* * *

 

The sun was setting on another long day when they finally arrived in Martinsville.

They were all quieter today, more subdued. Even Merle kept his thoughts to himself, humming under his breath instead of singing at the top of his lungs. He'd teased them at first, about their night together under Mrs. May's roof, but he let it go once he picked up on the change in the mood.

Carol was grateful. She spent most of the trip staring out the window, watching the world pass by. Eventually it all blurred together.

Tammy's house was easier to find than May's had been. There wasn't much in Martinsville.

The house they stopped in front of was neat enough; the yard needed mowing and a shutter was coming loose on the big front window but Carol could see cheerful yellow flowers in a pot by the front steps.

Before they reached the porch, a woman opened the door and peered out at them with big dark eyes. "Carol?"

"Yes, are you Brenda?"

The woman shook her head fiercely. "Hell no. I'm Tammy."

She stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind herself and shooting them a quick smile. "Don't want the cats to get out."

Carol nearly told her it was nice to meet her but decided this wasn't the time to bother with formalities. "Is Brenda here?"

"Nope," Tammy huffed out an exasperated breath. "She left about an hour ago. Don't know where she was going but she told me not to wait up. Not that I was gonna."

"You think she's coming back?" Daryl asked, watching the woman with narrowed eyes.

Tammy shrugged. "She left all of her shit here. You tell me."

Merle climbed the steps, forcing the woman to take a step back. "How do we know you ain't just hiding the whole damn bunch in there?"

"I guess you don't," she snapped. "But I ain't got nothing to hide."

"In that case, you won't mind us taking a look around," Daryl said, following his brother up the stairs.

Tammy's dark eyes flashed and she looked at Carol, as if hoping she might intervene. But Carol just stared back at her, unmoved.

"Fine," the woman sighed, stepping out of their way. "Just watch the cats, alright?"

Merle and Daryl filed inside, closing the door firmly behind them and leaving Carol alone with Tammy.

Carol watched her wringing her hands and fidgeting, feeling strangely detached from it all.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what happened," Tammy finally said. "I didn't know. Ed told us all that you were an unfit mother and he took that baby to keep her safe."

Carol's face went hot. "He said what?"

"He said you were a stripper and all you did was party and bring home strange men," the woman said, looking away. "But when I talked to Mama this morning, she said you were a real nice girl and she didn't believe a word of that. Guess I shouldn't have believe Ed the dickhead in the first place but Brenda eats up every little thing he says."

The heat flowed from Carol's face, down her neck, and across her chest. She gritted her teeth against the anger that was flaring up inside her.

Tammy seemed to notice and changed the subject quickly, her voice light.

"So which one of them boys is yours?" she asked, jerking her head towards the door. "The one with the shaved head seems like an ass but he's damn fine."

Carol raised a brow, softening a bit as she looked at Tammy's hopeful expression.

"That's Merle," she told her, "and he's more trouble than he's worth. He's definitely not mine."

"Well, you know what they say about tires and testicles," Tammy chuckled. "So it's the younger one then? He ain't bad to look at either."

Carol didn't bother to correct her as Daryl opened the door, nudging a fat grey cat aside with the toe of his boot.

He met her eyes for the first time since that morning and shook his head. It wasn't as hard this time, she hadn't been expecting Sophia to be here anyway.

"Nothing but cats," Merle grumbled, slamming the door behind him. "Too many goddamn cats."

"Now, you just watch your mouth," Tammy teased, cocking her hip out to the side. "We don't take the Lord's name in vain in this house."

Merle gave her a long look up and down.

"Well, praise _Jesus_ I ain't in this house no more," he muttered, stomping off down the front steps.

Tammy watched him go, shaking her head, and then looked back at Carol. "How about y'all come back first thing in the morning while Brenda's lazy ass is still piled up in bed and I'll make damn sure she talks to you."

Carol glanced at Daryl and saw him nod.

"We'll be here."

* * *

 

If there was a hotel in Martinsville, it was well hidden. They drove around until 9 before giving up and pulling into the truck stop just outside of town.

The cook was already gone for the night so they settled for a supper of potato chips and cold sandwiches from the store, eaten in a plastic booth under buzzing fluorescent lights.

Daryl stopped to buy a pack of cigarettes as Carol and Merle headed for the Cherokee. She was still trying to come to grips with the fact that they'd be sleeping in the car together, in very tight quarters, in a truck stop parking lot.

She was trying to figure out the most comfortable position when Merle twisted around in his seat to look at her. "So what the hell happened last night?"

She didn't look at him. "Nothing happened."

He snorted. "Don't tell me y'all fucked."

She shot him a cold look. "We didn't."

"Then what the hell happened that was so fuckin' bad it turned y'all both into mutes?"

"Why do you care?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why do you think? 'Cause that's my baby brother."

"Well, nothing bad happened," she sighed. "I guess we're both just…confused."

Daryl opened the door then and Merle dropped the subject. The silence in the car was suddenly deafening. Carol could almost hear her heart beating.

Up in the front seat, Merle fidgeted until he couldn't take it anymore.

"I gotta take a leak," he muttered, throwing the door open and climbing out.

And then she was alone again, with Daryl.

He lit a cigarette and passed it back to her without asking before lighting his own.

She took it, grateful for the distraction, and it was half burned down before she got up the courage to speak.

"I guess we should talk about what happened," she said, stumbling over her words a bit.

He turned his head ever so slightly and she could see the silhouette of his profile in the darkness as he exhaled a stream of smoke. "Yeah?"

She took a deep breath, gathering her words before she started.

"I don't want things to be weird between us," she told him before admitting, "because I like you. A lot."

He didn't move and, uncertain, she continued, "And this morning when I said I wanted to apologize, it wasn't for the kiss. It was for putting you in that situation after all you've done for me."

To her relief, he turned his head to look at her and the corner of his mouth hitched upwards. "Didn't see me complaining, did you? Hell, I felt bad for taking advantage of you."

Her cheeks warmed and she looked down, grateful for the cover of darkness. "You didn't. Not at all. And I just wanted you to know that it's not that I regret it or don't want to do it again. I just feel so guilty for even thinking about something like that when my daughter is still out there."

"I get it," he told her. "It don't mean you care about her any less though. It don't make you a bad person."

She wasn't sure if he was right about that but she thought about it anyway, for a good long time. In any case, the tension had ebbed away by the time Merle returned. He picked up on it immediately; he caught her eye and winked.

Then they settled in for the night; doors locked, windows cracked, Carol stretched across the backseat, and the Dixon's reclining in the front.

The faint hum of semis passing on the highway was strangely comforting. She couldn't say that she was actually comfortable but she felt more secure than she would have expected. Of course, that probably had something to do with the brothers in the front seat.

"Merle?"

"What?" he sounded particularly grumpy and she wondered if she'd woken him up.

"What makes you so good at finding people?" she asked.

"Ain't found her yet."

"I know, but at least we have a lead," she insisted. "I wouldn't have even known where to start."

He stayed quiet.

"I know you were a bouncer once but before that, were you a…repo man?" she guessed.

He snorted.

"Bail bondsman?"

"Fuck no."

She heard Daryl chuckle.

"So what is it then?" she pressed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Observant," he told her and she saw him tapping his finger on the side of his head. "Means I don't miss shit."

"She knows what it means," Daryl muttered. "She ain't stupid."

She smiled to herself, just a little, and finally closed her eyes.

 


	12. Chapter 12

The sun was just rising above the trees when they knocked on Tammy’s door.

They were all a little worse for wear; rumpled, grumpy, and sore from sleeping in strange positions.

Daryl knocked on the door again and Carol couldn’t help but notice the tuft of hair that refused to lie down neatly despite his earlier attempts to tame it in the rearview mirror. She reached up to smooth it down and he leaned his head into her touch, turning to look at her over his shoulder when she dropped her hand.

Tammy opened the door dressed in a white robe and despite the fact that it was just after dawn and they’d presumably woken her, she leaned against the doorway and smiled at Merle.

Carol sighed, drawing the woman’s attention to her. “Please tell me Brenda’s here this time.”

“Oh, she’s here alright,” Tammy laughed, “and she brought the hangover from hell home with her. Come on in and I’ll get her up.”

They followed her inside as she swished off down the hallway and Carol caught Merle by the arm.

He bent down to let her whisper in his ear and she told him, “I don’t know if you’re interested but just so you know, you’ve definitely got a shot there.”        

She saw a look of surprise cross his face and then he smirked, eyes following Tammy down the hallway. “I’m always interested, sugar.”

They heard the two women arguing and then Tammy reappeared, dragging someone behind her.

She shoved the woman down into a chair at the kitchen table where she sat glowering at them, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket emblazoned with yellow ducks.

She was younger than Carol expected. Her short blonde hair was as untamed as Daryl’s had been, sticking up all over her head, and her big green eyes were ringed with last night’s smeared mascara.

“Brenda?” she asked, uneasy as she pulled out the chair across from her and sat down.

She stared back at Carol with jaded eyes. “Carol.”

Carol glanced up at the others. “Could y’all give us a few minutes?”

Daryl caught her eye and she nodded, giving him a little smile as he followed Merle and Tammy out into the hall.

“I’ll be right out here,” he muttered, eyeing Brenda warily.

When they were gone and it was quiet in the kitchen, Carol looked back at the world-weary young woman sitting across from her.

“Who is he?” Brenda asked, jerking her head towards the door.

“He’s a friend,” Carol answered coolly. “Brenda, is Sophia okay? Have you talked to Ed?”

She looked away, jaw working as if she was grinding her teeth together, and didn’t say a word.

“Please?” Carol asked. “I really need your help. I know what he told you about me but none of that’s true and – ”

“I know,” Brenda interrupted impatiently. “I know. Mama knows, Tammy knows, the whole goddamn world knows that you’re a perfect angel and I’m a fool for listening to him again.”

They both fell silent and Carol felt the chasm between them widen.

Carol took a deep breath. “Listen, I’m so far from perfect that it’s not even funny. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. Ed was just one of them.”

“I know what you mean,” Brenda sighed, head in hands. “I know.”

“So was my daughter okay?” Carol asked softly.

Brenda looked up and met her eyes. “She was fine. She missed you but she was okay when they left here Saturday afternoon. I haven’t heard from him since.”

The words cut through her like a knife. Of course she’d known her daughter would miss her but to hear someone confirm it nearly took her breath away.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” she finally managed to ask.

Brenda smiled but it was an ugly, bitter expression. She ran her tongue over her swollen, split bottom lip and that told Carol all she needed to know.

“I thought it would be different this time,” she said in answer to a question Carol didn’t ask.

Carol shook her head sadly. “It never is.”

“I really loved him, you know?” she said in a broken voice. “I don’t know why but I really did.”

Carol listened. She understood it all too well.

“I guess I was just fooling myself when he called, thinking he wanted me back,” Brenda said, wiping furiously at her wet eyes. “But all he wanted was a babysitter because he was so fucking clueless that he had no idea what to do with her. And I tried to take good care of the kid and show him that I could be what he needed but he didn’t care. He never cared. All he talked about the whole damn time was you and what was gonna happen when he saw you again.”

Carol’s eyes were drawn to Daryl as he stepped into the doorway and leaned against the frame.

“What did he say?”

Brenda looked over at Daryl and then back at Carol. “He wants to hurt you.”

Carol nodded, her eyes locking with Daryl’s. “I figured as much.”

“He wants to hurt you,” Brenda repeated, then added, “but I think he wants you back too. He’s crazy.”

Carol’s stomach turned and she quickly changed the subject. “Do you know where he was going?”

Brenda shrugged. “I heard him call his sister Jeannie. It sounded like he was going to stay with her.”

“Where does she live?” Daryl asked wearily.

“Virginia,” both women answered in unison. 

 

* * *

 

 

“You know we ain’t gonna let that asshole hurt you, right?”

Carol looked over at Daryl, at the serious expression on his face, and bumped his shoulder with her own. “I know. I’m not worried about that.”

She didn’t tell him what she was worried about; that Ed would hurt Sophia or him or Merle. She wasn’t sure when she’d come to count the Dixon brothers among the people she cared about in the world but somewhere along the way, it had happened.

She and Daryl were sitting on Tammy’s front steps, waiting for Merle to emerge from Tammy’s bedroom, or her “den of iniquity” as Brenda had called it. Carol could only hope he’d return in one piece. She glanced up at the sky and saw the sun was already creeping higher.

“Those two have been at it for an hour and a half,” she sighed.

Daryl snorted. “I think ol’ Merle might have met his match with that one.”

She had to agree.

The urge to get on the road and start the eight hour trip to Coeburn was eating at her. She tapped impatient fingers against her thigh, staring out at the empty street.

The warmth of Daryl’s hand on the back of her neck caught her off guard. She looked over at him and he glanced down at her lips. She held her breath, certain that he was about to kiss her again.

And then the door flew open, banging against the wall. They both jumped apart and turned to see Merle stumbling out onto the porch with his shirt in his hand and Tammy still attached to his lips.

He tore his mouth away from hers and she immediately started kissing his neck, running her hands up and down his bare back.

Carol looked away, eyes wide.

Daryl gave Merle a pointed look. “She coming with us?”

He flipped his middle finger up at Daryl and finally, with some effort, managed to extricate himself from Tammy’s arms.

“Stay,” he told her gruffly, slapping her on the ass.

They left her on the porch, staring after Merle with a wistful look on her face, as they all climbed back into the Cherokee.

“Get me the hell outta here,” Merle hissed as he slammed the door behind him. “That woman’s worse than a kudzu vine.”

 

* * *

 

As the day wore on and they closed in on Virginia, Carol felt the fear steadily rising up inside of her.

For the first time, it seemed like a very real possibility that she could have her daughter back before the night was over. But it was also becoming clear that she would have to face Ed.

Just the memory of his cold, mean eyes and sweaty, groping hands made her shudder.

She looked over at Daryl, hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. “Got a cigarette?”

He glanced over at her, then pulled one out of the pack and handed it over with his lighter.

Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with the striker.

“Here,” he mumbled, taking the lighter from her hand.

He kept his eyes on the road as he lit her cigarette and she rolled the window down to let out the smoke, glancing over her shoulder into the backseat to make sure the sound hadn’t woken Merle.

They had devised their plan of attack shortly after leaving Martinsville, after she told them everything she knew about Jeannie, her house, and the small town she lived in.

“You think you’re gonna be able to find the place?” Daryl asked, drawing her attention back to him.

She studied his profile until he met her eyes. “I think so.”

“You okay?”

She nodded, the cigarette helping to steady her breathing. “Just scared.”

Exhaling, she watched the smoke as it snaked out through the open window.

Daryl took her hand and she looked down, watching as he threaded his fingers through hers, a bit stiffly as though he wasn’t sure of himself or what he was doing. She felt his eyes on her face and looked up at him.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he told her.

She gave him a weak smile.

“You promise?”


End file.
